When James Met Libby
by Moonprincess92
Summary: James Sirius Potter has no idea why he's telling the story of how he fell in love. He's not even romantic! Falling in love went against everything he believed in … but it happened. And he invites you to listen if you dare. :James/OC recommended reading with GIR and CGIR NextGen:
1. When James tells a story

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own James Potter, or prologues. I do, however, own Libby. :)

* * *

When James Met Libby.

James Sirius Potter has no idea why he's telling the story of how he fell in love. He's not even romantic! Falling in love went against everything he believed in … but it happened. And he invites you to listen if you dare. :James/OC recommended reading with GIR and CGIR NextGen:

**Note:** This story is compatible with the previous stories that I have written, _Getting it Right_, and its sequel, _Conclusion to Getting it Right_. This story covers everything that happens between James and my original character, Libby, over the course of these two stories. It is not necessary to read these first, but the two relate to each other and will overall make it a better reading experience. :)

* * *

_This story is dedicated to bekeyboo. Thank you for the inspiration and encouragement. :)_

* * *

Prologue: When James tells a story.

(_October, 2030_)

Mate, I have _no_ idea why I'm telling you a love story.

First of all, I'm _rubbish_ at telling stories. And second, I am _not_ a romantic bloke; hell, for the first 21 years of my life, I made it my sole ambition to sleep with basically every woman in greater London! You can blame Fred for that. The idiot somehow became my best mate as well as my cousin and he's never exactly been known for, y'know, having much sense.

But this story … I think it's safe to say that it is _completely_ romantic. It's dramatic, it's gasp-worthy, I like to think it's hilariously funny ('cause, y'know, I'm a stand-up kind of bloke!) and above all, it's all about love.

I am James Bloody Potter!

I don't _do _love.

But 21-years-old was four years ago and a _lot_ changed in that time. Most of this story happened!

The only reason I'm telling it is because my younger cousin, Rose, went a bit mental with her wedding planning. She's getting married in barely a month and all I can say about it is _thank bloody god_. The amount of shit she and Scorpius went through to get to this point was _ridiculous_! Their love story is probably just as good as this one is going to be, and if you want to hear it, I'm sure she won't mind telling you; just go ask her. I swear she loves the sound of her own voice, anyway!

What was my point again? I'm afraid I'm a rather absent-minded bloke, as well as being about as far from romantic as you can get. I believe my point was how I ended up telling this story.

Right. It all started with Rose.

Just the other night, she sent me a frantic owl, requesting my help right away; I figure she's _dying_ or something, so, naturally, I rushed over in a panic and as it turned out, she'd just needed help writing her bloody _wedding vows_! I mean, honestly. She considers _that _an emergency?

She had said she would normally do that sort of thing with her best friend since Hogwarts, Bea Potter, who got married to my younger brother last year. But that night, Rose's best friend was currently in France, investigating some magic-onion scandal; I don't bloody know, I never understood journalists. Since Al claimed he would rather slit his own throat than help her and Scorpius was clearly out, she had practically slammed the door shut behind me and _pleaded_ with me to help her.

You have _no_ idea how much I just wanted to Apparate out of there. But this was Rose Weasley, c'mon! Who the hell can deny her anything?

So I stayed and _good bloody god_. Apparently, Rose's idea of writing her wedding vows was to go through every single memory of Scorpius she had, quickly denying that every one was either inappropriate to talk about in front of a hundred people, or resulted in Scorpius coming off as a bastard. And I'm not going to lie, Scorpius was an idiot for most of their story.

Long story short, she _did_ get around to writing her vows eventually, right about when _I_ was ready to snap and murder her. However, I didn't exactly want to admit … I'd rather enjoyed hearing the unabridged version of her and Scorpius's story and I made the mistake of mentioning it. That was about when Rose had hugged me tightly (nearly tearing my head off, I'm sure) and claimed that she wished she knew more about my story.

So that's how I ended up here. Sitting on my living room sofa, telling my story. I don't know who exactly I'm telling it to, or if anyone will even care, but I'm telling it anyway, because seeing my cousin get married, after all the shit she's gone through, kind of gives me hope for myself.

And I want to believe that we'll make it.

Four years ago, I somehow fell in love with the woman who changed my life. The woman who made me _want _to be in love. The woman who loves singing loudly and off-key and considers it fun to have mock sword-fights in the hallways. The woman who managed to love me back, despite the fact that the first time she'd even considered it, I was wearing a Lord Voldemort costume.

This is the story of me and, the one and only, Liberty Greer Fletcher.

* * *

A/N: You asked for it.

The main reason this story came into existence was because of bekeyboo. Seriously, one comment from her inspired all of _this _madness. Then, pretty much all of you who read GIR World expressed interest in this story and, let's face it, my imagination ran away from me, so here it is!

Libby Fletcher is a character I created for previously mentioned GIR and CGIR. This story will cover from the moment she and James met, all the way beyond when CGIR finished. I have said it is not necessary to read these previous stories of mine, but I would recommend it as this story will be compatible with those.

Please, if you like it, tell me what you think! I always appreciate feedback of any kind.

Until next time -

- Moon. :D


	2. When James Met Libby

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own James Potter, rowdy 12-year-olds, or fifteen-year-old cousins.

* * *

When James Met Libby.

James Sirius Potter has no idea why he's telling the story of how he fell in love. He's not even romantic! Falling in love went against everything he believed in … but it happened. And he invites you to listen if you dare. :James/OC recommended reading with GIR and CGIR NextGen:

* * *

Chapter 1: When James Met Libby.

So I think you've gathered by now and I am absolute RUBBISH at telling stories. Seriously, if I had my way, this story would go, "I met Libby, we fell in love, BAM, the end!" But, of course, after I recounted my startling dramatic prologue, Rose came crashing into my flat, uninvited like she always does.

And she told me that my version was a bloody _useless_ story.

"C'mon, James," she said with a roll of her eyes. "It's got to have more pizazz! Action, drama!"

"How the hell did you get _in_ here?"

"Libby gave me a key years ago, I'm surprised you don't just leave the door unlocked," she shrugged.

"What, like _you_ do?" I shot her look. "Rosie, as much as I appreciate your trust in the world, I'm not going to leave the bloody _door_ unlocked–"

"Then I'll just have to keep using my key!" Rose said, cheerfully, and I sighed as she threw herself down onto the sofa next to me, her red curls a usual mess on her head. It seems I wasn't getting rid of her, especially when she dumped a whole load of magazines and papers on the coffee table in front of me.

"… oh, good lord, what _is _that?" I asked.

"Wedding shit," Rose shrugged. "I'm procrastinating. So come on, tell me your story! And start from the beginning this time, not your usual rubbish. When did you first meet?"

"Seriously, we have to go back that far?" I said in amazement.

"Well, you can't start a story halfway through the action," Rose reasoned. "That's like telling the story of your dad saving the Wizarding World by starting, _'Soooo, we've skipped five years of Harry Potter's training to be a wizard and Voldemort is back!' _It makes no sense!"

"I barely remember meeting Libby," I whined. "It was so long ago!"

But all right, I'll admit it, I'm kind of lying. I _did_ remember meeting Libby Fletcher. It might have been a while ago – thirteen years, in fact – but the moment Libby came crashing into my life, I swear, was permanently seared into my brain.

It was October, 2017! It was a wet and stormy night, the wind was howling against the window panes …! Er, I mean, I think it was raining. Sorry, Rose told me to be dramatic.

I was twelve years old at the time and I was sitting in the joint common room. It was a huge and cosy sixth floor room at Hogwarts, created during the rebuilding of the castle in the aftermath of the Second Wizarding War. My dad always said that tension between the Hogwarts houses is what caused a lot of the destruction during the war, so when they started putting their beloved home back together, he had a say in what was built. The joint common room was created as an opportunity to let friends from other houses mix together.

Honestly? I'd mostly seen it as yet another convenient place to simultaneously throw wild parties and piss off the Slytherins.

I was stupid, a prankster, and a joker back then. Rose liked to call Fred and me her 'Idiot Twins' and I would have sworn that she was being stupid at the time, but now I can rather agree with her!

Fred and I were just sitting with our mates, being stupid as usual …

* * *

(_2017_)

"_Maaaate_!" Fred shoved me on the shoulder, nearly pitching me off the sofa entirely. "There's no _way _Frida is into you."

"Are you kidding?" I snorted. "She was completely eyeing me up after Transfiguration!"

"She probably had something in her eye," Jared put in.

"She did not!"

"Mate, this is _Frida _we're talking about," Jared's mate, Henry, pointed out. "With an arse like that, she could have anyone. Why the heck would she go for you?"

"Besides, isn't she in fifth-year?" Fred laughed. "She's about three years older than you!"

I grumbled and huffed at them, refusing to admit that they were probably right. My mates were all blokes and _all_ rowdy; honestly, I don't really know how to talk to girls (but don't pass that on). Jared and Henry were only two of many different people Fred and I talked to. While Rose had her little tight group of her, Al and Bea, my (stupid) brother and a sweet Ravenclaw like her, respectively, Fred and I simply stuck together and sort of drifted from group to group, around any person we thought was interesting. I have friends in basically every house! I might make fun of them sometimes, but that _includes_ Slytherin, believe it or not.

We often talk rubbish like this. Things like 'Maaate, you're in!' and 'Don't go for it, you still need to reel her,' were often passed between us boys even when, I'll admit, half the time we don't even really know what we're talking about. But hey, I'm twelve, what _do_ I know?

Suddenly, there was a loud burst of laughter behind us, and we turned to see a couple of Rose's mates from Ravenclaw, giggling together at us. The joint common room was packed with people, piled onto the various sofas, cushions and desks, but these two girls were standing behind our sofa, for some reason, still giggling in our direction.

While the other boys all preened and called out, "All righ'?" I narrowed my eyes. I'd learnt from my older cousins that if girls _laughed_ at you, you should _probably_ be worried. And these girls knew Rose. Granted, I'd never spoken to them in my life, but Rose was someone you wanted on your good side!

"I'm sorry, is something funny?" I found myself asking.

The girl with shoulder-length black hair exchanged a look with her friend, who had short blond pigtails. They were only first-years, but heck, they were Ravenclaws; they probably thought they were better than anyone!

"There's _no way_ you could handle a girl like Frida Fletcher," the black haired girl laughed. "You're James Potter, right? Rose's cousin?"

"Yeah, and who the hell're you?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" the girl said, eyes sparkling. Oh, dear, that's kind of frightening. Unfortunately, that only made me want to keep talking more. Seriously, James, shut up! She's clearly not your average first-year!

"Aw, Jo," the girl continued, turning to her blond friend when I didn't answer. "I think he's lucking out!"

"Oh, well," Jo teased, twirling a finger around one of her pigtails. "Maybe he'll get her next time?"

"Are you kidding me?!" I snapped back, sitting up onto my knees to lean against the back of the sofa. "I could _handle _Frida!"

"Mate, she's _fifteen_," the girl said. "One kiss from her and you would _faint_!"

"How would _you_ know?" I argued. "You don't even know her!"

"Why, Jo, I think that was a challenge!" the girl said to her friend.

"I believe so!" Jo giggled.

"Fine, it _was_ a challenge," I said at once, never able to take anything like this lying down. I think that's what got me into so much trouble from the professors. Unfortunately, far from pulling me back into my seat like a good mate should, Fred was busy encouraging me, telling Jared and Henry that I was totally going to choke. Ah, well, you have to die sometime! "There's no way she would even _acknowledge_ your presence."

"I bet that she would _totally_ acknowledge my presence," the girl countered, a defiant look on her face. "Even better, I bet I could convince her to kiss you and that you would completely pass out cold from it."

"Deal!" I said at once, sticking out my hand from over the sofa so she could shake it. I had absolutely no idea what I was getting into, none at all. "But first, you tell me your name."

The girl just smirked, before turning and walking across the joint common room, to where Frida sat with a load of her fifth-year mates. Jo perched on the back of the sofa next to me, folding her arms and shaking her head. "Mate," she scoffed. "You're _done for_."

"What? C'mon, there's no way–"

But the girl was walking straight up to Frida like she owned the place. Frida was one of those girls you couldn't help but take a second glance at; shiny brown hair, big blue eyes, she was freaking hot, every bloke with a pulse knew that! To a little eleven-year-old like the dark-haired girl, Frida would be intimidating and from what I'd heard so far, she often didn't give anyone younger than her the time of day.

But the girl waltzed straight up to her and tapped her on the shoulder. Frida glanced up and to my utter astonishment, the two started _talking_. I could see how the girl was pleading with the older, but there was no possible way she was going to convince a fifth-year to kiss me. A _second-year_ wouldn't even kiss me! Um, not that I, er, wanted to broadcast that or anything.

… if anyone asks, Bridget and I _totally_ snogged behind the third-floor tapestry, ok?

This entire situation was starting to become a bit bizarre; where the hell had this girl and her friend come from? I knew that they hung out with Rose sometimes; often, I'd see them all sitting together at the Ravenclaw table as Al waved to them from Gryffindor. But I'd never bothered to find out who my cousin's friends were and, as I was currently learning, _perhaps_ I should have. This girl was a bloody wildcat!

I didn't think it was possible, but about five minutes later, Frida was sighing and standing up. Eyes going wide, I panicked slightly as the two started to make their way back over.

"Oh, my god!" I yelped, seeing Frida approaching. "She's coming over! She's actually _coming over_! Merlin, mate, what do I do?!"

"You made the deal!" Fred laughed, shoving my shoulder. "You have to see it through!"

"Don't pass out, mate," Jared warned.

She wasn't _actually _going to kiss me, right? There was no way she was going through with this. No way at all –

"Hi," Merlin, there she was. Frida Fletcher. Standing right in front of me, where I was still stupidly leaning over the back of the sofa, on my knees. Gripping the top of the sofa so tight it was almost painful, I tried to look attractive, yet nonchalant as I grinned and flicked my fringe the way I had seen Teddy do it before,

"_Hey_," I said back.

"I hear you're James and you think I'm hot?" Frida asked, the black-haired girl moving to stand next to Jo, watching this entire scene play out with a look of pure amusement.

"I – oh, um –"

"Because my friend here had an interesting proposition for me," Frida added, nodding to the girl at the mention of her friend. _Friend_? How the heck were these two friends?!

"Oh?"

"Yes," Frida took a step forward and I tried not to squeak. Buggering Merlin, she was only two feet away! "I kiss you."

"… and then what?" I asked, almost afraid of the answer.

Frida shrugged, grinning now. "And what, indeed?" she said. "Why don't you tell me, if you're still conscious?"

"But I–"

I would have continued that statement with _something_, but it was almost a good thing that she cut me off with a sudden kiss, because I had no idea what that something was. My brain shorted out completely because, hell, I was being kissed! Someone's lips were touching mine, softly, almost playfully, and I could barely even think. I don't think I even moved.

Oh, my god, I was being kissed by a _fifth-year_!

She pulled away with a laugh, probably at my expression. I most likely looked like I'd been clubbed over the head. "Owl me if you dare!" she said lightly, before turning and walking away back to her friends, head held high and hips swinging, in perfect position to show off her arse.

I think I fell backwards onto the sofa. _Oh, my god_, that actually happened, didn't it?! Frida Fletcher kissed me! She _kissed_ me in front of the entire joint common room! Oh, my god, I can't breathe, I'm hyperventilating–!

"… is he going to be ok?" a girl's voice came from far away and I suddenly snapped back to the present. I had about five faces staring over me and I realised that three of them were my mates, the other two being the girls I had just met.

"I did _not_ pass out," I insisted at once, accepting Fred's hand and letting him help pull me up.

"Maybe, but you did zone out for a good ten minutes," the girl teased, her blue eyes sparkling once more. I stood up hesitantly to face her, as she still stood behind the sofa with her friend, Jo. "I totally won!" she added.

"You … who the hell _are_ you?" I insisted, trying not to sound as weak-kneed as I felt.

The girl gestured with a finger before resting her hands on the back of the sofa, letting her body lean across and towards me. I found myself leaning closer to her despite myself. She was in my face when she answered.

"My name's Libby Fletcher," she said with a smirk. "and don't you _ever_ forget it."

Then, she was pulling away and dancing across the joint common room less than five seconds later. It only took that amount of time to put the pieces together and I ended up yelling,

"_Fletcher_? Are you and Frida _related_?!"

"She's my cousin, you idiot!" Libby called back.

For several seconds, I just stared in shock. Then, I sprang into action and did the only sensible thing I could think of:

I ran after her.

* * *

(_2030_)

Rose was sitting next to me, looking almost riveted. Which was, um, weird, because my entire recounted story, she kind of didn't say a word.

"… am I really _that bad_ at telling stories?" I asked, tentatively.

"Are you _kidding_?" Rose said, grinning. "You could talk in a monotone voice and I wouldn't care. What happened after you ran after her?!"

"It's kind of embarrassing," I admitted.

"More than what had already happened?"

"Fair point," I snorted. Trust Rose to call me out on that. It was kind of a struggle to think back to so long ago – and so much had happened since then – but I thought I remembered the parts that mattered. "Basically, I ran after her and complained that she had cheated a win out of me. I believe I even called her mean, at one point!"

"_Mean_? Really, James?"

"Hey, I was twelve!" I reasoned. "At twelve, 'mean' is almost on the same scale as 'cold, heartless bitch'."

"I'll give you that."

"So, well, we sort of ended up bantering back and forth for a bit," _That_ part was clear in my mind; the spark in her eyes as she teased, the remarks cutting enough to bruise my ego, but not enough to hurt. I wouldn't have admitted it at the time, but it was sort of what I needed. It wasn't hard to figure out that I was far too cocky for my own good when I was younger, so for Libby to suddenly waltz in with her smirk and her popular older cousins, it had struck me hard.

_Extremely_ hard.

"After a while, Jo pointed out that she and Libby needed to go meet their friends somewhere, so they left," I concluded. "Sorry the ending's so boring."

"Every single story can't be non-stop action, James," Rose pointed out for me. "If it were, we might just go mental with the overload! Besides, not every story _is_ non-stop action, not matter how much you might like it to be."

"Like endless Quidditch!"

"Only without substitute players," Rose joked.

Oh, dear. I'm so very sorry, my imaginary audience, if this story _does_ gets boring at points; and no doubt it will, just like Rose said! But I'll always swear, something else big and drama-filled will be heading your way.

As we all know, I'm all about the drama!

See, for anyone else sitting in that joint common room, that day probably would have been _completely_ insignificant. But for me, it kind of changed my life.

Because that was the first time I had ever run after Libby Fletcher and, honestly … I don't think I ever stopped.

* * *

A/N: _Please Note:_ A lot is happening in my life beyond fanfiction at the moment and honestly, I didn't think I would be able to post this today. I did because I needed to do something normal. I can't promise for next week. Please, I hope you all understand, I'll honestly do my best. :)

This story will move between 'present day' (2030, when James is telling the story from) and 'then day' (various years, the part of the story James is telling). Line breaks are used between scenes, and I will always add the year to indicate that the story has gone back to James telling the story (and vice versa). Each chapter will always start with James in present day.

So this was how they officially meet! I apologise now that these chapters are going to be a lot shorter than GIR World's; they _do_ get a bit longer further in, I swear.

Thank you so much for all your support! Please, keep telling me what you think! I hope you all liked it. :)

Until next time -

- Moon. :D


	3. When James met Libby … again

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own James Potter, baristas or cafes. Café Julio, however, is mine. :)

* * *

When James Met Libby.

James Sirius Potter has no idea why he's telling the story of how he fell in love. He's not even romantic! Falling in love went against everything he believed in … but it happened. And he invites you to listen if you dare. :James/OC recommended reading with GIR and CGIR NextGen:

* * *

Chapter 2: When James met Libby … again.

Now, one of the first things you need to know about mine and Libby's story is that it is _screwed up_.

I'm serious, we did not to one _single_ thing in the right order! Our first meeting naturally didn't go so well, so you're probably wondering how the hell we managed to recover from that first meeting.

The truth is we, er, didn't.

Sure, she was brilliant. I'd never met a girl like her and no matter what I told myself, how pissed off I insisted that I was, I had to admit, that stunt she had pulled had been _epic_. Was there honestly anything hotter? She was Rose's friend, so naturally the first thing I did after that first meeting was to go straight to my cousin.

"_Libby_?" eleven-year-old Rose had practically laughed in my face the second I'd asked her what she was like. "Oh, James, _mate_. There's no way you could handle Libby!"

She had simply continued laughing, so I'd figured that the 'getting into her good books through the cousin' wasn't going to work. Libby didn't seem to want anything to do with me, so I suppose I gave up trying, for the want of a better term.

Besides, the end of second-year was about when I met my first girlfriend, Danielle, and _damn_, after that was I _not_ thinking about anything else!

Rose smacked me at that point, still sat next to me on my sofa. "James!" she cried. "Don't be stupid!"

"What?!"

"James, you just _don't_ talk about ex's in a love story."

I just turned to face her with a _seriously?_ look. "Oh, I'm sorry, then how the hell did you become friends with Sophie, then?" I said with a smirk.

Rose just grumbled, glancing back down at her wedding cake designs, or seating plan, or some other bloody useless aspect of her wedding that she'd brought around with her.

Don't get me wrong, I _love_ Rose's friend, Sophie. But the two met when Sophie had turned up as Scorpius's new girlfriend, last year. Rose and Scorpius had only broken up two months earlier and to say Rose had been livid was a _wild_ understatement. It had taken four months for Scorpius to see the light and _finally_ dump her, but I don't think he'd been counting on Sophie and Rose somehow becoming fast friends. Now, the two were as close as anything and she was even invited to the wedding.

I know! _Never_ invite an ex to a wedding. What is Rose _thinking_?

Anyway, enough of Rose's insane life; back to _my_ story here. The thing is, after that first meeting, Libby and I literally had nothing else to do with each other. Sure, there were several moments over our years at Hogwarts where we had talked; I vividly remembered her screaming at me during a Quidditch match, that if I won the game for them, she'd snog me on the spot …! Rather unfortunately, we ended up losing, so she never did follow through.

I don't think I'd ever been more disappointed to lose a match before.

There had also been another incident, back when I was in sixth-year and she was in fifth. Rose and Scorpius had been in their crazy, 'I hate you, but secretly want to be with you, so let's pretend we hate each other and pull stupid stunts' phase, so after that aforementioned Quidditch match, they had let their competitiveness get away with them. I won't go into the details of the resulting scavenger hunt they had organised throughout the castle and how we'd all nearly been expelled because of it; seriously, we'd be here for _hours_. The gist of it was that Libby and I had ended up on the same team.

How could we _not_? It was either that, or face Rose's wrath!

So there were several moments where we'd been running around the castle, searching for various items, when we'd talked and teased and boasted. I'd never really spoken to her properly since our first meeting and the want to impress her sort of seemed like an involuntary action; something I simply _had_ to do, _needed_ to do.

So at one point, Fred and I threw an entire box of Uncle George's fireworks on top of the Slytherins as a distraction! One of the items on the scavenger hunt list was to get a picture of that whiney ghost, Moaning Myrtle, smiling. I know; my brother had been the one who put the list together, so Merlin only knows what was going through his head. But anyway, while the Slytherins were busy screaming at the fireworks and running for their lives, Libby and her friend, Jo, had had the chance to get into the bathroom and get the photo. When they'd turned up and asked what the hell had happened, I had proudly boasted,

"We dropped a box of fireworks on top of the Slytherins!"

Unfortunately, Libby had just laughed at me and answered, "We just saw Rosie run past, carrying Bea in her arms, who appeared to be in fits of laughter, all while screaming bloody murder. Although I believe her precise words were 'tally ho'. I think this is pretty tame in comparison."

Clearly, Libby won that conversation.

… thinking about it, I never did ask Rose how she ended up in that situation.

"It takes a long time to explain," Rose grinned, listening with rapt attention. "I swear, I'll tell you later."

But apart from exchanges like that, Libby and I _never_ spoke. Eventually, Fred and I left Hogwarts and suddenly, we were taking on the bloody world together. Just two single blokes, looking for a good time! Who the hell wanted to get messed up in love, anyway? I'd seen what it had done to Rose and Al; it drove them crazy, made them do all sorts of shit.

Being single was perfect!

Sometimes I really envied my little sister; Lily had never enjoyed her last few years at Hogwarts and finally, halfway through her seventh-year, she dropped out of school completely and jetted off to Brazil. She travelled the entire world for the better part of three years before she finally came back to England! She was literally living the high life, seeing amazing sights and not caring at all that she was never going to find love. Even before she left, Lily was a free spirit; she did whatever the hell she wanted and didn't care what others thought.

If she didn't care, why should I?

So it was with that attitude that I first walked through the doors of Café Julio.

It was a busy Muggle café smack in the middle of London. It took me a train ride to get there from my old and grungy flat, but I knew Rose lived within walking distance and she had mentioned it before, claiming that they sold the best coffee she'd ever tasted. I'd been working at the Ministry for over a year at that point, as a part of the arena building team in the British and Irish Quidditch League, Department of Magical Games and Sports. That summer, the European Cup was to be held in Ireland and they had wanted me to be a part of the team! _Me_! But being a part of the team somehow meant I had to get myself to Ireland and back several times a week and with the salary I currently had, there was no way I was doing it without a second job.

So when I was nineteen, I said hello to the apron and became a waiter.

What I hadn't expected was to say hello to Libby once more.

* * *

(_2024_)

My first day of work at the café, I'll admit, I was nervous. Isn't everyone nervous at a new job, even if it's just a café? You don't want to be labelled the screw up, or the kiss up, or any other 'up' for that matter. So I'd gone in with the intention of being my usual charming self and hoping for the best.

Rose says my 'usual charming self' normally results in something getting set on fire, but what the hell does she know?

"Yes, James Potter, come right on through!" one of the managers said, a lovely woman with reddy brown hair named Aurora. "There's a uniform for you in the break room and we've got one of the other waitresses ready to train you."

The café wasn't huge; the break room was probably about the size of your average wardrobe and there were four employees sitting shoulder-to-shoulder at the tiny table, watching a music channel on the PV … sorry, TV. My uncle Ron got the name mixed up when he first learnt it and called it pellyvision, but even once he learnt the real name, he still called it that because it pissed off his wife. As a result, basically everyone else in the family calls it pellyvision!

… it's a wonder Auntie Hermione hasn't divorced him.

Despite having to wear an apron, the employees in the break room seemed nice enough when I introduced myself and by the time I was walking back out behind the busy counter, I was feeling more like my usual confident self.

That is, until I was introduced to my trainer.

"This is Libby," Aurora was saying, gesturing to the dark-haired girl next to her, currently too busy pouring coffees and shakes to notice me. "She's going to train you while you work for your first couple of shifts, so you can find your feet. We believe in training on the job; no one learns anything in a classroom these days."

"Libby Fletcher?" I said, almost laughing.

"What?" she turned and as a result, she accidentally knocked over one of the coffee cups. She yelped as the hot liquid spilt all over her uniform and I seriously tried to smoother my laugh … no, really! We were in a Muggle café, it's not like we could just _magic_ it away. She swore and Aurora took pity, telling her that she could go get cleaned up.

"Pleased to see me, right?" I called, cheerfully but Libby just shot me a withering look before stalking off for the break room.

Aurora glanced at me in between orders. "Do you two know each other?" she asked.

"Friend of a friend from school," I answered. "Bit of a rocky relationship, but I bet she warms up to me!"

"Oh, I'm glad I hired you," Aurora smiled. "I'd _love _to see someone give that girl a run for her money–! Yes, good morning, how can I help you?"

It had taken ten minutes for Libby to come back, stomping in with a surly expression. She'd managed to find a new apron, but her work shirt was still stained and she glared as I gave her a happy hello.

"_Not _amused, mate," she said, glancing up at the small pieces of paper that had been pegged to a length of string across the top of the counter. I noticed that as Aurora took the orders from the customers, she either pegged them on Libby's line, or on the line across the window that I assumed led to the kitchen. She immediately started on the first order, grabbing a to-go cup and starting to grind the coffee beans.

"C'mon, aren't you glad to see me, just a little bit?"

"Oh, _James Potter_," Libby said, giving me an exasperated look. "Of course, it's absolutely _spiffing_ to see you! What the hell're you doing here?"

"I needed a second job," I shrugged, watching her work. Her movements were fluid as she brewed the cup of coffee; she was clearly a natural. "You?"

"Same," she said, steaming the milk. "When they told me we had a new waiter to train this morning, I had _no_ idea it was going to be you."

"You're secretly screaming for joy, aren't you?"

"Oh, you betcha," she smirked at me, and I couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic or not. She had barely changed since Hogwarts; her dark hair was just a bit longer now, sweeping around her shoulders, but she still had that same spark in her dark blue eyes. It was the spark that always made me think that perhaps she could have been a Gryffindor in a past life. I vividly remembered asking Rose why the hell Libby Fletcher was in Ravenclaw and Rose had just answered that she was wicked smart.

Sometimes, it was hard to see, Rose reasoned, but it was true.

Libby was just popping the lid on the coffee and calling out the name written on the side when I realised that as fun as it was to watch her work, we were in the middle of a busy rush-hour: that hour before nine when people were heading to their normal, everyday jobs and needed that rush of caffeine to get them through the day. Oh, god, I was supposed to be able to do this _straight away_?

"Right!" Libby said, glancing at the next order. "This one's a flat white, you can do it, can't you?"

"Uh–"

"Brilliant!" She danced around me, shoving me to the side so I was in front of the coffee machine now, instead of her. "Start with the beans, work your way through."

"Come again?"

What happened next was what I liked to call _the worst six hours of my life_. For a solid hour, there were back to back orders! I suppose, _technically_, Libby taught me what to do, but only after I had screwed it up in some way.

"C'mon, mate!" she had yelled, ignoring Aurora's tinkling laugh, as I frantically tried to brew a double shot cappuccino. Libby had taken an old receipt and started tearing off little pieces, pelting them at me when I didn't do it right. "I could brew better than you if I had a broken hand! Faster! _Faster_!"

"Is it wrong of me to find that statement a little bit arousing?" I had grumbled, but Libby had just thrown a large, screwed up wad of old receipts at my head in retaliation.

When there had finally been an ebb in the flow of customers, Libby had taken me through the different stations of the café. "There's counter, barista, deli, lobby, grill, fry, waiting and line," she rattled off in rapid-fire. I think I was supposed to keep up, but mostly, I was just blindsided by all the different names! "I'm mostly a barista girl, but I wait and clean the lobby if there's nothing else to do. That's going to be your next job."

"What, waiting?"

"No, cleaning the lobby," Libby had grinned, handing me a mop that had been leaning in its bucket behind the counter. "I believe there's a little girl over in the corner who has been sick! Make sure you get underneath all the chairs, it's a health hazard otherwise."

"I'll give _you_ a health hazard …" I had grumbled, taking the mop and stomping towards the young family.

Later in the afternoon, Libby had introduced me to the kitchen staff as, "This is James, he thinks he's brilliant,"

"I am!" I had countered, but that was when Butch, the head chef, just laughed.

"Oh, mate," he had jeered, throwing his arm around me in what I seriously hoped was a good-natured way. "You've got a lot to learn about this place! Welcome to Julio!"

"Um … that's a cool knife …" I had muttered, glancing at the knife out of the corner of my eye, which was sticking out of Butch's fist on my shoulder.

"Lib, are you training him?" one of the other chef's had asked.

"If he can keep up," she had grinned.

"Keep him on his toes, Libby!" the chef's had all laughed.

* * *

"I am going to DIE!" I cried, dramatically, flopping onto the concrete pavement.

Libby just snorted, nudging my leg with her foot. I had finally reached the end of my shift, after it seemed like the shift that would just _never end_. Having been on my feet for practically six hours straight, my legs were killing me and I didn't even care that sitting in the middle of the footpath was basically asking to get knocked out by someone's foot. I scooted forward until I reached the gutter, resting my feet on the street and my head in my hands. I felt a headache coming on and it was only two!

"C'mon, James!" Libby said, cheerfully, sitting down next to me. "Got to have my fun somehow!"

"You're evil."

"I've been told that's a kind of attractive quality," Libby told me.

I peered up at her. "Normally, yes," I pointed out. "You … you're just diabolical."

"Thank you!"

"I haven't seen you since I left Hogwarts," I said, still watching her. "I heard from Rose that you're a Cursebreaker now?"

"Training," Libby shrugged. "Got to get through three years of it, then I'll be fully qualified."

"And the café?"

"Got to pay for training somehow!" Libby told me. "It was either this or prostitution. And let's face it, while I like to think I'd be high-class, working at a café's a little bit more socially acceptable."

"If it makes you feel better, I'd totally pay for you," I mentioned, starting to get back my old edge. What can I say, Libby had intrigued me since day one. Fred would consider it sacrilege to not even _try_ and flirt!

"Oh, honey," Libby snorted. "Like you could afford me."

"I'd work double shifts."

"You're hot, James, but only ever in your _dreams_," Libby told me and I grinned at her sassy look. Standing up, she hoisted her bag over her shoulder and said, "Working with you is going to be fun! Next shift, we're cleaning the bathrooms!" she added, walking away through the crowd and disappearing in a blink.

The cheeky minx.

* * *

(_2030_)

Rose simply laughed in my face once I finished speaking.

Well. I'm glad my misery is so amusing!

"Oh – oh, man!" she cried, wiping her eyes. "I still remember that day you came storming into the Burrow for dinner! You only mentioned an annoying new waitress who kept throwing paper at you. I'd had no idea at the time it was Libby!"

"Well, you could have been a bit more sensitive," I rolled my eyes.

"Oh, James," Rose sniggered, nudging me with her shoulder. "C'mon, it's not like I had guessed back then that roughly four years later, you'd be _together_. I had no clue!"

"Yeah, _I'm_ still wondering what the bloody hell happened!"

* * *

A/N: A second first-meeting was in order, since James and Libby's story is, indeed, a bit screwed up. That's what I've enjoyed most about writing this story: I didn't plan for them to happen. Seriously, they had nothing to do with each other in GIR. Then CGIR came along and BAM, they just pleaded with me. It was like a little voice in my head whispered, "Goooo on, you know you want the Jabbyyyyy! Doooooo it, Moooon! _Doooooooo ittt_!"

So I caved and it was the best decision I'd ever made.

Thank you so much for the support so far! I hope you all enjoyed their second meeting. I apologise now, these first few chapters are a lot of lead up, so I can't promise it will be giant cliffhangers and exciting action the whole time. But I promise, we will soon get to that!

Please, tell me your thoughts! It's the only way for me to make this story the best it can be. :)

Until next time -

- Moon. :D


	4. When James starred in a musical

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own James Potter, baristas or cafes. Café Julio, however, is mine. :)

* * *

When James Met Libby.

James Sirius Potter has no idea why he's telling the story of how he fell in love. He's not even romantic! Falling in love went against everything he believed in … but it happened. And he invites you to listen if you dare. :James/OC recommended reading with GIR and CGIR NextGen:

Note: For those curious, the song featured in this chapter is 'Out Tonight' from the musical, _Rent_, sung by the character, Mimi.

* * *

Chapter 3: When James and Libby starred in a musical.

So I ended up working alongside Libby Fletcher. And I'm not going to lie, I spent most of my time there shamelessly flirting with her. To this day, I'm still not really sure what I was hoping for; I mean, the amount of times she shot me down! I think I lost count after twenty six …

But it was never _serious_. We were just being idiots; yes, _not_ just me, her as well! I vividly remember one point where I had accidentally cut myself on a knife working in the kitchen and she had crooned back to me through the window, "Oh, baby. If you run this order out for me, I'll kiss it better?" I'd been half out the kitchen door before I had realised that she, and half the kitchen staff, was laughing at me.

It became a kind of game, this joking back and forth. It was all in good fun!

I didn't _like_ her or anything.

Only, Rose didn't agree with me on that one.

"Come _on_," she huffed, rolling her eyes next to me. "You're telling me that that entire time, you never _once_ considered going out with her?"

"Sleeping with her, yes," I pointed out. "I mean, c'mon, she's the hottest girl in the universe! But _going out_, as in dates and girlfriends and _commitment_? No bloody _way_."

"Get out, you can't tell me you didn't like her, just a little bit," Rose smirked. "I remember going into Julio once. That day she turned the café into a musical?"

"What about it?"

"Well, I saw the way you looked at her," Rose shrugged. "You practically fell off your chair."

"I–!"

"–can't deny it," Rose cut in, smugly.

Ok, so I had to give her that one. "Look, Rose, she was just a mate back then."

"A mate you wanted to _sleep_ with!"

"Fine!" I cried. "You want to know what happened that day? I didn't think it was so bloody important, but fine, I'll include it in my story! It all started when Libby watched that barmy Muggle film …"

* * *

(_2024_)

"_Look who it is! It's James_!" Aurora sang from the front counter.

"What?" I said in confusion.

"James!"

"_James_!"

"Hit it, guys!" Libby called, pointing me out from a table she was serving. Customers in the packed café started laughing as all the employees working front of house suddenly started singing, for unfathomable reasons. There were even a few who were supposed to be busy serving tables, who came to dance around me as they chanted out a short verse:

_Look who it is, it's James! _

_He'd better not call us names! _

_We hope he knows how to sing! _

_So he can join our crazy thing! _

"… what the bloody hell is going on here?" I asked in amazement, shooting one of the waitresses, Maggie, a weird look as she waved her jazz hands in front of me.

"It was Libby's idea," Maggie explained as several customers in the café clapped for the impromptu performance. "She watched _Rent_ for the first time last night and thought it would be neat if we had a musical day!"

"What's _Rent_?" I asked.

"Only the coolest musical ever!" Libby explained as Maggie and the others went back to their orders and I approached the counter to where Libby was waiting, leaning with a hip against the table top. "I borrowed it off Bea," She glanced over her shoulder for a second before leaning in and adding in a mutter, "It's a Muggle film."

"Oh," That explained the nuttiness over some singing; Libby was a freak for all things Muggle. She thought they were brilliant with their _technology_ and their _electricity_, and especially their films and PV shows. Since her good friend, Bea, was a Muggle-born, she would borrow a new film almost every week. I mean, there was a _reason_ Libby took Muggle Studies for three years at Hogwarts! Me, on the other hand, I've got Muggle-born relatives and c'_mon_; I like magic too much. Muggles are good and fine, but who needs to _study_ them? Sure, I hung out around the classroom a lot, but I wasn't afraid to admit that that was mainly so I could try and get Libby to talk to me.

"So why are you singing every chance you get?" I asked Libby.

"Because!" she said, grinning. "Wouldn't it be amazing if life was one giant musical? Everyone bursting into song, synchronised dance moves, perfect timing?"

"Only if _you_ were singing," I grinned back. "Don't tell me, you'd lead the chorus?"

"Are you kidding?" Libby snorted. "I'm the flipping _heart_ of _Café Julio: The Musical_! I'd be the bloody star! But it's all in the performance and every voice counts. You up for the challenge?"

"I can _sing_," I blurted out at once. Of course, _that_ was a complete lie; I'd lost count how many times I'd been shrieked at back home by my sister, pounding on the bathroom door to make me shut up 'screeching in the shower'.

But I couldn't tell Libby that, could I?

"Can you, now?" Libby's eyes sparkled. "Because I do recall a rather amusing story told to me by Rose … something about vintage rock bands and being naked in the shower?"

"Whatever she told you is _not _true," I said at once.

"So you _didn't _belt out the lyrics to _Bleeding Magic_ while scrubbing your hair with strawberry scented body wash?"

"… the only reason you like this story is because I'm naked in it, isn't it?" I decided that joking would be a lot safer; so what if Rose's shampoo smelled good? The only reason I'd taken over her shower was because I had a girl using mine and I kind of didn't want to face her after the night we'd spent together. And Rose's bathroom is a _girl_ bathroom; let's face it, it was much cleaner!

Libby just laughed. "Yes, definitely, it was the nakedness!" she said. "Though we are in public now, so do _try_ and keep your clothes on. The only thing you need to bring out today is your voice. I hope it's … sultry," she added with a sparkle.

"I like to think it's sexy, but deep."

"Oh, and you would know all about _deep_, wouldn't you?"

"I've offered to show you a demonstration before, Lib," I smirked, leaning in. "All you have to do is say–"

"All right, you two!" Aurora cut in then, throwing an apron at me; it flopped over my head and Libby laughed once more. "Liberty Fletcher, back to work! James, get that apron on and take some orders, all right? And be prepared to sing; this musical thing is _raking _in the tips!"

There's just something about Libby that's infectious. If anyone else had suggested making this day a musical, they would have just stared and called you crazy. But when Libby cried, 'Hey, let's star in a musical!' everyone just went with it because, hey, it was _Libby_. Her ideas might be crazy, but I was familiar enough with them by now to know that they often turned out for the better.

Today, we were both working front of house, taking orders from patrons and delivering food to tables. Every time she passed me, she would sing out my name and in return, I would try and find something to sing into a song about her; however, as it turned out, nothing much rhymed with 'Libby'.

"_Oh, Libby! You're the gabby to my gibby_!"

"Those aren't even words!" Libby said, bumping me with her hip as she passed me between tables.

"You should've picked a better name, then!" I called after her.

"Yes, because I so had a choice!"

"Excuse me," a little boy, probably about five or six, said to me as he tugged at my apron. Sat at the table I was bringing out coffee orders to, the boy grinned a toothy grin and asked, "Why is everyone singing?"

"Why not?" I replied.

"People don't normally sing."

"Well, then," I said, lifting the coffees down onto the table for the boys' parents and handing a small hot chocolate to him. "I guess we're not normal!"

The little boy grinned. "_Thaaaaaank you, Mr waaaaaiter_!" the boy warbled in a sing-song voice.

"_Yoooooou're welcomeeee_!"

"You're actually getting into this," Libby grinned when I joined her back at the front counter. I leaned around her to take the next order and she slapped my hand when I let it brush against her arm.

"Atmosphere's infectious," I admitted. "Besides, who doesn't want to hear your beautiful voice?"

"You're so bloody charming, James,"

"You love it."

"Totally," Libby despite the sarcasm, she still gave a teasing raise of her eyebrows. "Sometimes I just wanna–"

"LIBBY! JAMES!" Aurora yelled at us both. We both turned to see her with one hand on her hip, the other holding out a tray of coffees. "As amusing as your little shows are sometimes, we're in the middle of a _rush_."

"Right," Libby skipped over to our boss and plucked the tray out of her hands, ignoring Aurora's bemused look and she blew her a kiss. "To quote James, you love it. Or you wouldn't have hired us!"

"I'm regretting it!" Aurora sighed, then she noticed me, still staring after Libby, and she snorted. "Oh, go on then, take your break now and flirt for fifteen minutes."

I grinned. "Thanks!" I called before darting into the break room to rip off my apron.

"… so how did you end up borrowing _Rent_ of all things?" I asked Libby, sitting on the arm of a chair as Libby cleared a table.

"It was Nathan's idea."

"Who's Nathan?" I asked at once.

"My boyfriend," Libby said, straightening with her arms full of dirty dishes. "Likes to call himself an actor, even though I swear he was the understudy in _one_ stage play. Got a thing for musicals. Thought I was rather like one of the characters in the movie, Mimi."

"And … are you?" My head had a sort of ringing going through it. Boyfriend? How can this gorgeous creature have a _boyfriend_?

Wait, hang on …

"Well," Libby shrugged. "I might be nearly nineteen, but I'm not a stripper, nor am I hooked on drugs, so I think it's safe to say that I'm not _completely_ like her."

She moved away to put the dishes in the sink in the kitchen and I was left staring after her until she reappeared to wipe down the table. _Boyfriend_. I don't know why I had assumed she was single, but I shouldn't have. _Of course_ she would have a bloody boyfriend! Who wouldn't want to be with her? I supposed it was just, after months of flirting, I had assumed that she'd wanted me too, albeit in a strange, roundabout 'you're Rose's disgusting cousin' sort of way.

She was teasing. She was always teasing and she thought that it was all in good fun, just to wind me up and nothing behind it. Hell, I couldn't even blame her; what other impression had I given her?

When she finally came back to clean the table, I forced myself to stay in check. Don't do anything stupid, James!

"Soooo, _Nathan_, huh?" I asked.

Really?

"For god's sake, you sound like my mother," Libby huffed.

"C'mon! You can't just tell me you have a boyfriend and not give details!" I insisted. What? To hell with it, I wanted to know. "Where'd you meet?"

"You're not going to stop asking, are you?"

"No way in hell."

Libby sighed, straightening from the now clean table. "We met through work. _This_ work," she added. "He's a Muggle. He asked me out, thought I'd give it a shot."

"How have I never met him?" I asked.

"He works the evening shifts, during the weekdays," Libby answered. "I only work one evening, on a Wednesday, so that's where we crossed over. Anything else you simply _must_ know, Auror Potter?"

"Yeah," I said, crossing my arms. "Just … Nathan the Waiter? _Seriously_?"

Libby just scoffed, stalking off for the next table to clean. Naturally, I followed her. "Go back to work, James," Libby told me, leaning down to lift a pile of empty cups. "I don't need you stalking me. And what's wrong with being a waiter? _You're_ a waiter."

"Oh, c'_mon_," I grinned, taking the cups out of her hands. "There's no way 'Nathan the Waiter' is tough enough to handle you! You're totally worth more than that!"

"James, I'm a _waitress_," Libby pointed out. "What's the difference? And give me those cups back, if all you're going to do is stand there and ramble!"

"No," I childishly hauled them into my chest when she reached out for them. "Listen, Libby, you're not just a waitress, you're so much _more_ than that, and you know it."

"Oh, really?" Libby folded her arms in defiance. I kind of liked it. "Then, pray tell, what am I? And actually _think_ before you answer, Potter."

"You're …" I struggled for a moment. How do you describe Liberty Fletcher? It didn't seem like there was one word that could do it. She was so many things! She was stunning, she was quirky, she was –

Oh. I should be saying this out loud, shouldn't I?

"Lib, you're _extraordinary_," I said, with as much conviction as I could muster. "And a whole lot of other things, but I think extraordinary covers most of it. And any bloke is _so_ lucky if they get to have you in their life …"

For a moment, Libby's eyes shone. "James," she said. "That was actually sweet–"

"… especially if you're naked," I added.

"You're disgusting," Libby snorted. She slapped me on the arm for that one and took the cups off me before I could protest and steal them back. "Mimi would be able to teach you a lesson with her moves … I might just have to bring my inner-Mimi out."

"She's the _stripper_, isn't she?" I said, eyes wide, and I trailed after her helplessly as she moved to put the cups away. "God, yes!"

Libby laughed out loud. "Merlin, you're _easy_," she said. "_Aurora! Lobby's cle-e-e-an_!" Libby sang to our boss.

"_Aurora, Libby's being me-ean_," I added in a sing-song voice.

"She's always mean to you," Aurora snorted, moving across the front counter to reach a fresh plate. "Just sit down and eat something for lunch before she makes you pass out. I'll give you another five minutes."

I did indeed sit down. Down the end of the counter, past the food display of sandwiches and Panini's, there were several stools that patrons sat and ate at. Libby had to move around it to move between out front of the café and the back. Of course, I sat on the end so I could talk in between bites of a sandwich.

"So if you're a stripper, doesn't that mean you have an act?" I asked her. "You did say you'd show me your 'moves'."

"It was all talk, James," Libby smirked, bustling past to carry out more orders.

"Aw, I was looking forward to it!" I said.

"I bet you were!" she called back. Then, she paused and the look she gave me when she turned around sent a spasm of fire throughout my body. Good god, it was practically feral. She was so hot. "Hey, James," she said. "What's the time?"

"I … uh …" I had the sense to glance at my watch. "About ten?"

"Really? That can't be right," Libby then suddenly starting singing. Like _properly_, not in the silly sing-song voices we'd been using all day, but in a voice that sounded dangerous and kind of made me shiver. "_Well, it's gotta be close to midnight_ …"

"What?"

"_My body's talkin' to me, it's says 'time for dangerrrrrr'_," She grinned, probably at the slack look on my face before turning abruptly and delivering her order to the right table. Several patrons had glanced over at the sound of her voice and I didn't blame them; the girl knew how to sing! She sang out a 'here you go!' to the table she was serving and the couple laughed and sang 'thanks' back before she started back towards me.

"Libby what _was_ that song?" I insisted when she got close enough to hear.

"It's Mimi's song," Libby told me with that wicked sparkle. I almost didn't know if I wanted her to start singing again; on the one hand, it was amazing, but on the other, I would not be held accountable for my actions as a result. I didn't get any choice, however, since sure enough, she opened her mouth, continuing the song from before,

"_It says 'I wanna commit a crime'_," She walked towards me and I swear, she was swinging her hips like that on purpose. "_Wanna be the cause of a fight! I wanna put on a tight skirt_–" She bent close, leaning her hands on the counter either side of me. Singing into my ear, she continued, "–_and flirt with a strangerrrrr_ …"

Holy god. Since when was Libby's voice so … so … words failed me. For a moment, I completely forgot where we were and for a second, could imagine that we were alone. Perhaps in my bedroom, or even hers … singing as she sauntered towards me, lifting her shirt as she did so –

"You know, I actually forget the next verses," Libby admitted then in her normal voice, jerking me out of my fantasy. "But _then_ it goes – _let's go ooooo-ooouuuuut tonight_!" I noticed Aurora glancing over at Libby's voice but either she thought an impromptu performance would rake in more tips, or simply wanted me to leave me to _die_, because she said absolutely nothing. "_I have to go-o-o-o ouuuuut tonight! You wanna play_?" She took hold of one of my arms, letting her hand drag down my skin until she held my limp hand. "_Let's run away! We won't be back before it's New Year's da-ay_!" She twirled under my arm before letting go and throwing her arms into the air. "_Take me outttttt tonight_!"

Before I could do something about this amazing spark to my day – probably something incredibly stupid, like kissing her on the spot – Libby had spun around and continued to work like absolutely nothing had happened. Several customers were applauding her performance and she just gave them a wave of acknowledgement, grinning.

… you know, I don't think I really know what just happened.

That was about when my cousin entered the café. As I tried to gain enough composure to get up and get back to work, Libby noticed and sang out, "_Gooooood morning, Rosie_!" Rose waved back before Libby turned back to me.

Oh, dear.

She moved to spin back behind the counter, but not without a teasing swing of her hips. That was about when she purposefully leaned in to whisper in my ear what I guessed was the end of her song:

"_Meow_!"

I swear, I nearly fell off my stool.

* * *

"I spent the rest of my shift practically begging Libby to sing me the rest of that song," I complained to my cousin. "Seriously, _out tonight_? I would have taken her, all right; but I wouldn't have bothered to go _out_!"

"Um, perhaps this is just my imagination," Fred put in, looking highly exasperated. "But didn't you say that this girl had, oh, I don't know, a _boyfriend_?"

"Yeah," I muttered, darkly.

"Then what the hell are you doing?!" Fred cried. "We don't _do_ chicks with boyfriends! You know that!"

"I only found out today! Besides, I can't help it with her," I continued my annoyed ramble. "She's just so … _Libby_."

Fred sitting opposite me simply raised an eyebrow. I don't know _why_ I continue to come to my best friend for girl advice; it's not like he was much better than me! Fred doesn't _have_ girlfriends; he has a long list of women he's slept with. Actually, I'm pretty sure he's got a legitimate list somewhere. I think Rose believes we're shallow and petty, but I like to think of myself as more of a free agent who can do whatever the hell I want.

Ok, so what if I liked the girls? The girls liked me! And I _always _showed them a good time.

Only there had always been one girl who didn't want to go there.

Fred and I had come a long way since those little 12-year-olds at Hogwarts. I mean, we'd been mates since childhood; it's sort of what happens when you grow up in a family as close as ours. Fred and I had been born the same year, so naturally as little kids, we'd been thrown together to play a lot. Fred even looked like me a little, with dark curls and brown eyes, so a favourite game of ours was to swap clothes and pretend we were each other. Only our parents weren't fooled.

But we were a lot older now and we had been through a lot together. Out of the two of us, I'd say Fred was the Wildly Inappropriate One whereas I was the Fun-Loving Show You A Good Time Bloke. Or, well, it was what I liked to imagine. I swear, since the day Fred and I actually discovered girls existed (in a _liking _sense, I mean), we'd become partners in crime!

Honestly? The idea of sticking at a relationship for more than a week kind of terrified me.

So how the hell did Libby fit into that equation? I had no bloody clue.

Sat together at the table in my grotty flat, Fred just threw back the last of his Firewhiskey before slamming the bottle back down. "Mate," he said at once. "I get that this girl's hot. I even get that you want her! But if she's said no, _why_ do you keep insisting on running after her? You're only gonna get yourself hurt."

"Fred!" I cried with a grin. "You do care!"

"Shut it," he said, kicking me underneath the table, although there was a slight grin on his face as well. "We're related, you _know_ I care about you. But mate … there comes a time when there needs to be an intervention."

"I don't need a Libby Intervention!" I said, hastily.

"You're going after a girl who's taken!" he said, exasperatedly. "Need I remind you of the rules again?"

"No rings, no boyfriends, and no girls with purple hair," I spouted off with a roll of my eyes. "I thought that last rule was more for you, after that girl a year ago? What was her name, Steph or something?"

"Honestly, I don't remember," Fred said with a shudder. "And after _that_, I'm not going near purple _ever_ again! No way, _never_."

"Libby has black hair," I muttered, absently.

"JAMES!" Fred yelled with a look of someone who had completely had it. "Get it into your HEAD! _She. Has. A. Boyfriend_!"

"But she still _talks_ to me!" I reminded him. "Every day, I'll call out 'good morning, beautiful' and she'll tease me back. We laugh, we _flirt_."

"She knows it's not serious!" Fred shrugged. "And you've got to admit, she's right in thinking that. If you actually liked her, it'd be a different story, but you've never wanted her like that, have you?"

"No," But even as I said it, I felt the frown come to my face. I didn't like that statement. Not at all. "So you're saying I need to stop trying?"

"At least while she has a boyfriend," Fred nodded. "And who knows? If you tone down the Insane James Shit, she might actually come around enough to sleep with you! Though why you still want to bother with a girl who's said no to you a million times already is beyond me …"

I just snorted at that. As twisted as Fred's logic was sometimes, he did occasionally spout out some sense. Fred's Firewhiskey was long since downed, so I quickly followed suit before standing. "You're absolutely right, dear cousin!" I said at once. "Tonight, I forget about Libby Fletcher!"

"… 'dear cousin'? Really?" Fred scoffed, standing as well.

"Would you rather Fellow Idiot Twin? I don't think Rose has quite forgotten that nickname of ours," I pointed out.

Fred considered for a moment. "I think I'll take Idiot Twin, to be honest," he said.

"That's the spirit–! _Oi_!" I cut myself off, indignantly. I had been about to throw an arm around my best mate, but I quickly changed that to shoving him instead. "I thought you _cared_ about me?"

Fred just snorted. "Screw that shit, I'm only here for the laughs!" he joked. Then, at the look on my face, added, "Oh, go on, have another Firewhiskey before we leave, make things interesting!"

"Bastard," I muttered.

"And where would your life be without me?" Fred added, shoving me back, lightly. "Come on, then. Let's get the hell out of here, if all you're going to do is ruin my fun. London's waiting!"

As much as I thought Rose's nickname for Fred and I had an element of truth behind it sometimes, I have to admit, I loved my cousin.

And Libby. _Don't_ flirt with her. I can totally do that!

_Oooooouuuuuut tonight_ …

Oh, god. Hottest god-damned thing I'd ever heard in my _life_.

I was screwed.

* * *

A/N: This was the little moment that I randomly mentioned in 'The Unbelievable One' in CGIR that became the unintentional inspiration for this story. The desire to see this moment sparked all the rest!

Please be rest assured that not every chapter will carry the exact same format; some chapters will have very little introduction where James just launches straight into it and others will end in the moment, rather than back with him and Rose again, like this one. I hope that the style is still interesting enough!

_Also, please note:_ Some of you will know I am a student teacher. For the next month, I will be on placement in a primary school, so as a warning, I go a little crazy during prac. I've always managed to keep with updates till this point, but just so you know, if one doesn't come out when it should, prac will probably be why. :)

I also hope that you all liked this. Please, let me know what you think!

Until next time -

- Moon. :D


	5. When James and Libby stalked an ex

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own James Potter, cheating exes, ulterior motives, or exceptions. I do, however, own Libby. :)

* * *

When James Met Libby.

James Sirius Potter has no idea why he's telling the story of how he fell in love. He's not even romantic! Falling in love went against everything he believed in … but it happened. And he invites you to listen if you dare. :James/OC recommended reading with GIR and CGIR NextGen:

* * *

Chapter 4: When James and Libby stalked an ex.

Ok. Don't flirt with Libby.

Yeeeeeah.

_That_ sure as hell didn't happen.

Believe me, I tried! In fact, I spent several months struggling with the concept. What I didn't understand was why on earth I was finding it so bloody difficult! I would call out a greeting to her almost the second I saw her without thinking; then, most days, I was constantly biting my tongue as those teasing comments just tried to force their way out.

I'll admit that sometimes, I gave in and let them.

It didn't help that I now had Libby's bloody amazing voice stuck in my head! In fact, at the end of that musical shift, I had run to my brother's flat and outright confused him by asking if his girlfriend was around. Despite Al's bemusement, Bea had indeed been over and was incredibly enthusiastic about me wanting to borrow her DVD of _Rent_. In fact, she had gotten so excited, she had dragged Al down onto the sofa and insisted that they watch it with me.

Honestly, I had been rather disappointed that I couldn't go back and rewind Mimi's dance at the strip club. Libby was totally a better singer.

"So when did things change?" Rose prompted me then, jerking me out of the memory and back to the present by poking me in the side. "C'mon, I know they did at one point."

"Come on, you know!" I countered. "Not for ages, not until that night you all went out–"

"Oh, that's what you _say_," Rose insisted with a slight smirk. "But I _know _that's not true! You completely fell for her at some point and I want to know when!"

"You know, I don't have any idea how I thought telling this story was only going to take about five minutes."

"That's why I'm here!"

"Look, I'll admit, it was pretty obvious from the start that I was _attracted_ to her," I explained. "But that didn't really change until that night years later–"

"That's when you figured out it was love," Rose cut in. Damn. Sometimes, she knew the story better than I did! How the hell does she do that? "C'mon, James, there's no holding back here! We want to know!"

"Seriously, 'we'? You're going back to the imaginary audience?"

Rose chose to ignore that. Probably wanted me to stop stalling. Not that I _was_, you know, stalling or anything.

"_Please_?" she asked. "Just tell me; when did you figure out that your feelings went deeper than just attraction? When you realised it was emotional as well, not just physical."

"You're such a romantic, Rosie."

"I'm getting _married_ in a month, I'm pretty sure that's a given."

I almost laughed. "Oh, fine. It was a few months after the musical debacle. Libby came into work and nearly bit my head off …"

* * *

(_2024_)

"Shit, was 'Rebecca' have here, or to go?" I was quick to ask one of the other waitresses at Café Julio, a lovely girl named Taylor. She was a Muggle, still at high school and working on the weekends for extra money. She turned at the register, in the middle of taking another order.

"Rebecca was have here," she answered, tossing her blond waves over her shoulder. "Geez, James, you need to pay attention!"

"I'm paying attention to you – isn't that enough?" I said and Taylor giggled.

Libby often told me off for flirting with the other girls at the café; but seriously? Did she not know who I _am_? I never meant much by my flirting – _she_ should know that by now – it was just what I did, how I communicated. There was a _reason_ my only really good bloke-friend was my cousin. Other blokes didn't tend to like it when I flirted with their girlfriends and/or female relatives. Libby once called me a man-whore, but I like to think that she didn't know what it mean and was actually trying to compliment me.

Well, a bloke can dream.

Speaking of Libby, that was about when she burst into the café in a flurry. This weekend we were both scheduled to start late and finish late, working all day and getting off early evening. But Libby didn't seem to care that she was supposed to have started work fifteen minutes ago; she stormed up to the front counter in a rage, practically wrenching open the door to out back.

"What's up, beautiful?" I called after her. I immediately regretted it, but ah well.

That was when Libby suddenly screamed back, "_Screw you, James_!" before slamming the door behind her.

Taylor winced as I stared in shock. "What the bloody hell did you _do_ to her?" she asked me.

"Nothing … that I can think of," I added, hastily. Perhaps she had somehow found that ridiculous poem I had written for her in a bout of weakness last month for her birthday, before I had torn it up and thrown it away? I wouldn't have put it past her to trawl through my rubbish and, perhaps, she had taken offence to the lines, '_Libby, your fierce intellect drives me round the bend, without your hotness I simply can't contend_'?

I didn't get to speak to Libby for almost half the shift; Aurora had sent her out back to work in the kitchens, since several of the chefs had called in sick and I had to say out as barista. However, I think Aurora got tired of Libby smashing plates 'accidentally' in the kitchen, since she sent us both on a half hour break at the same time.

"_Talk_ to her," Aurora had told me once she had said I could go. "I don't care what about, just do that thing you do and cheer her up, 'cause she's costing me a fortune in broken crockery!"

"Um …" I had paused for a moment. Naturally, I wanted nothing else than to talk to her! But I knew that the second I did, that my resolve to not flirt with her would be shot to hell for the day. And that would have made it three days in a row in which I had failed!

"James," Aurora cut in over my hesitation. "Don't think I haven't noticed you trying to hold back from her. I know everything! But don't think I'm past dragging you into that break room and–"

"Ok! Ok!" I quickly said, holding up a hand in defence. For a lovely woman, Aurora had a severe feisty streak that I would suggest she get looked at, if it weren't for the fear of getting my head bitten off.

I reluctantly retreated to the tiny staff break room at the back of the kitchens. The room was painted yellow and had just enough room for the table and four chairs, two changing rooms and a wall of lockers for bags and clothes. The PV screen was hanging up on the wall, currently blaring out some music channel featuring singers I'd never heard of. Libby was sitting at one of the table chairs, leaning her elbows on the table and her head in her hands.

"… so, who pissed in your coffee this morning?" I asked, hanging my apron up on the hook next to the break room door.

"Go away, James," Libby groaned into her hands.

While that might have been the safer option, I instead said, "Nah, I think I'll have my lunch!" as I headed for my bag. My 'lunch' (if you could call it that) really only consisted of a half-eaten chocolate bar that my last girlfriend had accidentally left in my fridge, but all things considered, I think it was what we needed today. I sat down opposite Libby and snapped off a piece, wafting the chocolate under her nose through her hands. "C'mooooon, you know you want it …"

Her hand snatched out and grabbed it. Before I could make her say _please_, she had stuffed it into her mouth, before making a face.

"What flavour _is _this?" she gagged.

"Mint, duh."

"Ugh," Libby swallowed reluctantly. "Hate mint."

"Your loss."

"Gimme some," she said at once, holding out her hand.

"No way!" I tugged the chocolate back. "Not until you tell me what's got your knickers in a twist!"

Libby sighed, leaning her head in her hands once more. "The short story? Nathan cheated on me."

I stared. Nathan did _what_?

"The effing _bastard_," I said at once.

"Thanks for the assessment, James, though I did already figure that one out," Libby rolled her eyes at me. "Can I have more chocolate now?"

"Thought you hated mint?"

"I'll take anything I can get at this point."

I gave some to her, more because I thought she needed it than anything. Then, while she was chewing, I tentatively asked, "So … you got a long story to go with the short one?"

"Found out last night," she said thickly through her mouthful of chocolate. "He sent me a text."

"A what?"

"On my mobile phone," Libby said, exasperatedly. "Always wanted one, finally got it last year for Christmas off my brother! I think it was because he didn't want to buy me socks again. Anyway, Muggles use them to send messages to each other. Last night, I got a message from Nathan … y'know …" She raised an eyebrow. "… a _sexy_ one."

"A sexy message?" I repeated. "What part of it told you he was cheating?"

"At the end, he called me 'Lisa'."

"Ah," I swallowed some chocolate of my own. "What an idiot."

"I know! The least he could have done was check to make sure he sent it to the right bloody girl!" Libby burst out, angrily. "I'm assuming our names were right next to each other in his phonebook, seeing as they both begin with 'L' but _come on_! I had figured by default that if you're a cheater, you're a dick, but I didn't realise it made you _stupid_ as well!"

"No, that's not what I meant by him being an idiot," I pointed out. "Although now you mention it, you'd have to be a complete moron to send a message accidentally to the wrong girl. But he's an idiot, Libby, because he has _no idea_ what he's just  
ruined."

Wisely, Libby didn't say anything in reply; she just gave a half-hearted smile and glanced up to watch a rap singer gyrate on a dance floor. If Libby had said 'thank you' or any other form of endearing note, I probably would have freaked out and burst out some randy comment that would get me a slap around the face.

Sometimes, I really don't know how to act around women.

"… so what're you gonna do about it?" I asked after a few minutes of silently watching music and eating chocolate.

"Dump him," Libby muttered. "What else can I do? Hell, I can't believe he hasn't realised he sent it to the wrong girl, yet! I mean, for god's sake, this morning, he was texting me like usual. I'm not going to wait for him to catch on and break up with me so he can run into the bloody sunset with 'Lisa'."

I found myself shaking my head. "No!" I said at once. "No, you can't just 'dump him'!"

"Maybe you missed the story, James?"

"No, I mean, what about Lisa?" I pointed out. "There's a very high chance that she has no idea about you! If you just dump him, then he's going to sit back on his chuffed arse, thinking 'haha, you're back to being single but I've still got a skirt on the side'! You've got to catch them in the act, make him pay!"

Libby's eyes finally lit up; thank the lord, I was starting to think that I would never see that spark again. I'm fairly certain the entire universe would cease to exist if that happened. "I like what I'm hearing," she said.

"Yes! This way, Lisa gets to see what a bastard he really is and he can be dumped on his arse by two girls in one night!"

"I'm liking this plan more and more!" Libby said, sitting up straighter with a grin. "But how do we catch him at it?"

"That's easy; you know where he lives, right?" I asked.

Libby gave me a shrewd look. "You're not suggesting we _stalk_ him, are you?"

* * *

"I can't _believe_ I let you talk me into this …" Libby muttered in exasperation, leaning her head against her hands, rubbing her eyes with her fingers.

It was roughly ten thirty at night and according to Libby, Nathan (or 'Dickhead' as I had taken to calling him in my head) was working his evening shift at Café Julio. Having usually worked weekends, I'd never seen the café after dark and if anything, it looked even cosier with its lights and warm, coffee smell that leaked out every time the doors opened or closed. The second our shift had ended, Libby and I had staked out the café.

Unfortunately, we had both finished at six, and pretty soon, we had realised that the place was packed; Libby knew from experience Dickhead wouldn't get off till at least ten. I could tell that Libby was debating just going home and I knew if she did, she would never carry this out … and that dickhead needed to pay. So, despite her protests, after we'd finished work, I had taken her for a drink at a pub across the road.

"You better not have any ulterior motives for bringing me here …" she'd said when I had gallantly opened the door for her.

"Dear Libby, I _always_ have ulterior motives when it comes to you," I'd admitted. "Just … not tonight."

So we were currently sat in a corner booth, after an evening of what I liked to think of as managing to make her laugh all night. Once she gets a drink inside her, Libby does _not _know how to shut up, so it had been fairly easy to crack jokes and to try take her mind off the dickhead across the road.

Watching her across from me, I knew that there was no possible way that I could simply ignore her, now. It was fruitless to even try. The flirting was natural and going to come out, because Libby Fletcher had captivated me somehow. In fact, every time I saw that smile, my world became just a little bit more colourful.

Which was something I never thought I would say my entire life!

So, all things considered, the night was simultaneously a disaster, and going pretty damn well!

"They would be just closing up now," Libby continued, glancing between me and the doors of the pub through which we could see the café.

"We should head over if we want to catch him!" I agreed, standing up. Just as Libby and I were making our leave, Libby walking next to me and myself with my hands stuffed in my pockets (mainly so I wouldn't touch her, to be honest), she spoke up,

"Hey …" she paused. "I don't want to ruin the moment here, but thanks."

"For what?"

"For … always knowing when to push," she said, looking up at me. "And when not to. You grate my nerves sometimes, James, but you always know when it's not what I need. Like tonight. So thank you."

And to stop myself from saying some embarrassing, I had just nodded and grinned at her.

We found ourselves loitering outside the restaurant, waiting for Dickhead to show. Libby getting more and more angry as the minutes wore on and Dickhead never appeared. We _knew _he was in there; we had seen him before we'd gone to the pub! So why was he taking so long? The longer he waited, the worse he was inadvertently making his fate. Libby Fletcher was one girl you did _not _want to piss off.

"Oh, my god!" Libby's voice suddenly caught, slamming a hand into my chest. "There he is!"

She pointed him out; a scrawny bloke with a mop of blond hair and a leer that made me want to punch him in the mouth, just opening the door to the restaurant, a bag over his shoulder. Seriously, _this_ guy managed to get off with two different girls?

"Jesus, Lib, you could've _told_ me the bloke was a pansy," I pointed out. "It's going to make it that much harder to beat him up! I'll feel sorry for him."

"Shut it, _I'm_ going to do the beating up," Libby said, quickly ducking behind a lamppost as Dickhead started to make his way up the street. I leaned against the lamppost as casually as I could without looking like a dick myself. "Which way's he going?!" Libby hissed behind me.

"Uh … west? I think?" I said.

"Which way's that?"

"The hell if I know, I don't even know where north is!" I said, exasperatedly. "He's heading up the street, heading for Kingswood."

"What?" Libby said, despite my dodgy navigational skills. "Why the hell … he told me he couldn't meet up tonight 'cause he needed to go straight home!"

"I take it he doesn't live in Kingswood?"

"He lives in the opposite bloody direction!"

"Maybe he's going to Lisa's?" I suggested. "Has he ever done this before?"

"He … ohhh, _Merlin_," Libby said behind the lamppost and her dejected voice made me stick my head around to look at her. "I'm such an idiot."

"No, you're not."

"I am! Hell, I didn't even realise my boyfriend was cheating on me, even when the clues were right there!" Libby cried. I moved around the lamppost to leaned against it next to her.

"You know that _he's_ the idiot, right?" I said. "I've already told you that, but I think it bears repeating."

"But, I–"

"Libby, shut it," I cut in, grinning as I repeating the words she's snapped at me only minutes ago. "If he _is_ going to Lisa, then this is a good thing! It's what we were hoping for, wasn't it? It means we can bust him without having to stalk him for days on end to try and catch him in a compromising situation."

"I know," Libby muttered. "But I still feel stupid."

"Turn that into anger. I think it'll be more productive tonight."

Libby smirked at that. "I like that thinking, James," she admitted.

"Then we should probably get a move on, 'cause the Dickhead is already halfway down the street."

So, like the stalkers we were, we ended up following Dickhead for several streets. And, for some reason, it was actually kind of _fun_. Libby and I darted after him a good several paces behind, blending in with the people on the footpaths, giggling as we ducked into shop doorways to avoid him possibly glancing at us as he turned corners. I felt like an Auror, on the tail of a dark wizard! At one point, we hid behind a parked car and we had been ducked down on our heels, sniggering … until the owner of said car appeared and burst out,

"What're you _doing_?"

Naturally, we fell back on our arses and the shout of the car-owner happened to catch the attention of several other people, including Dickhead. With Libby on her knees in front of me, I panicked, and knew that while Dickhead would recognise her, he wouldn't recognise me.

So I tugged at Libby's waist and let her fall into me, hiding her face into my neck.

"Dreadfully sorry, mate!" I told the car owner. "Um … crossing the street – fell down – _first date_," I hissed under my breath, as if that explained everything and Libby simply supressed a shriek of laughter into my shoulder, which I think rather worked for our charade.

The car bloke just rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Just know that if you don't move, I _will_ run you down, even if you're in the middle of a snog."

That, I figured, the bloke wasn't kidding about, so I was quick to grab Libby and pretend to drunkenly stagger to our feet. As she wrapped her arms around my waist, still hiding in my shoulder and letting her hair fall across her face, we stumbled up the curb. I noticed the bloke's face as he finally stepped into his car; half annoyed, half amused.

"… I think he's gone," I murmured after a few moments of keeping up the charade down the street.

"Oh," Libby straightened up, flicking back her hair and letting go of me. I found I was suddenly rather cold. "Thanks."

"Yeah … er, sorry for kind of dragging you on top of me …" I added.

"It's fine," Libby said, simply. "Where'd Nathan go?"

"I think that's him?" I said, pointing out a lone figure in the distance, about to disappear around a corner onto a quieter, more residential street.

"Yes!" Libby tugged on my arm. "James, come on!"

We ran all the way until we'd hurtled around the corner. Sure enough, Dickhead wasn't far away now, seeming to make a beeline for one of the identical attached houses on the other side of the street. We ducked behind someone's rubbish bins to watch where he went.

"… god, I'm sorry I dragged you into all this," Libby said after a few moments. I turned to look at her, her dark hair almost blending into the night. With the glint in her eyes, she looked almost dangerous. "Mum's going to give me bloody _grief_ for it."

"Your Mum? Why?" I found myself asking. I'd never heard Libby really talk about her family before; I knew she had parents and an older brother, but let's face it, our relationship had never really been about getting to know one another. But now that she had mentioned it, I found myself hanging on for her every word.

Libby rolled her eyes, glancing back over the rubbish bins, and gesturing when she noticed Dickhead getting further down the street. We ran at a crouch to the next set of bins. "Mum _never_ approves of my relationships," Libby said to me. "Says I shouldn't have the time for them. Says that I should _not want_ them. But she's wrong," Libby shrugged. "I _love_ sharing my life with someone else. I might make the wrong decision sometimes, but normally, that's just to piss Mum off."

"Why the hell would your mum not want you to be happy?" I asked.

Libby snorted. "Clearly, you've never met Elaine Fletcher," Libby said. "You don't get it. I was changing the colours of my nursery at nine months old. My dad thought it was just fascinating – he's a Muggle –" she added at my blank look. Hell, I'd never even known that. "But Mum, she knew what it meant. She knew it meant I was going to be special, going to be _smart_. My brother and I, we went to primary school before Hogwarts, 'cause Dad's an English teacher. But I learned to read at age three and all through school, I was several levels above my friends. A lot of the time, I got made fun of. You'd think being gifted is cool, but I _hated_ it. And Mum would console me, tell me that it was ok, that I didn't need other people in my life to determine what I thought of myself."

"For the record, I never would have made fun of you," I said. At Libby's look, I added, "Well … not a _lot_, anyway."

She gave me a small smile, before peering back over the bin. "When I went to Hogwarts and found Ravenclaw, it was like finding the place I knew I needed to be. It was where I _belonged_. I started disagreeing with what Mum said, because there, people _respected_ my talent. So now, every moment I've told Mum that I've got a new boyfriend, or hell, even a new friend, she'll go out of her way to tell me how she's _so_ disappointed that I feel like I've got to throw my heart on the line for someone who's just going to hurt me in the end. Last year, I went out with a bloke who smelled like smoke and claimed he played in a heavy metal band for five months, just to piss her off!" She shook her head. "Now, I have to tell her that this one cheated on me … she's going to be a bloody nightmare."

"Isn't she being a bit hypocritical?" I pointed out. "I mean, she married your dad, after all."

"Trust me, I pulled _that_ argument out back when I was thirteen and 'in love' for the first time," Libby rolled her eyes. "She always says that everyone has an exception. An exception that you shouldn't ignore, but I'm apparently not going to meet mine until I'm 30, have a successful career, and ready to give her grandkids."

"Well, you never know," I said. "You could have already met your exception … only you're more interested in pissing off your mum at the moment."

"I'm actually more interested in pissing off Nathan," Libby pointed out. "Which reminds me – oh, _shit_, he's gone into one of the houses!"

"_What_?"

We both jumped up from behind the bins and sure enough, Dickhead was nowhere in sight. "He was just over there!" I pointed diagonally across the road.

"We'll just have to look through the windows!" Libby insisted, dragging me across the street.

"Uh … Lib … you _are _hearing yourself, right?" I said.

Libby didn't take any notice of my words, just thundered up the footpath to the front gate of the nearest house. "Luckily they have such small gardens," she said. "C'mon, we need to find out which one he's in! This is definitely not where he lives, so unless he's visiting his mother and has a bloody good excuse for calling me 'Lisa', I'm going to call him out."

"I'm pretty sure that there's a law against … ah, what the hell," I gave up in the end, simply darting after Libby.

Peering through the windows of random people was rather like getting a glimpse into someone else' life; only it was a snapshot, a brief moment that was over before it began. The lounge was the front room in all of these houses and in each one, each house, had a different story to tell. In one, there was a family of four, the teenaged children apparently arguing with their parents, probably about being sent to bed; in another, a middle-aged couple played cards; in one, a young mother rocked her baby gently, looking haggard and tired, singing from the way her mouth was moving, and in the last one, there was a young couple well on their way to going at it right there on the sofa.

"Holy mother of god," Libby's eyes widened at the sight. There was no mistaking the mop of blond hair and clearly-not-Libby he was wrapped around.

"I don't know about you, but if that was me, I wouldn't even notice you bursting in," I admitted.

"Like HELL!" Libby exclaimed and, before I could ask her whether this was really a good idea or not, she had stormed for the door, whipping her wand out of her pocket before practically whacking it on the door handle to make it open. She disappeared inside before I could stop her.

"Libby!" I called, but the shrieks and yells came before I was even through the door.

Oh, shit. If she kills them, I'll be charged as an accessory or something!

Running down the hallway and hanging a right, I saw that clearly-not-Libby had rolled onto the floor, currently yanking at the dress she had only been half wearing back over herself. Dickhead leapt off the sofa with an expression of horror, before sidling over to his (other) girlfriend to try and hide the fact that he was in his underwear.

"_Libby_?" he said, as the girl I assumed was Lisa stood there in utter confusion. "What – what are you –"

"Oh, just seeing if it was true," Libby snarled, folding her arms. Her wand had thankfully disappeared – god only knew how many laws she'd break if she had it in her hands, the Statue of Secrecy being only one – but her hands flexed against her arms and I saw Dickhead gulp.

"Seeing if _what's _true?" Lisa asked, turning her head of ginger hair on Dickhead. "Nate?"

"I – um –"

"Hi, Lisa I assume?" Libby said with a smile. The other woman nodded, bewildered. "My name's Libby! Good ol' Nathan here has been my boyfriend the past four months; yesterday, I inadvertently found out he was yours, too."

"He _what_?" Lisa spluttered, turning to stare at Nathan.

"Yeah, I was pretty shocked as well," Libby practically growled.

"Nathan …" Lisa began. "Tell me … she's joking …"

Nathan gulped. "Uh …"

"Oh, my GOD!" she cried. She shoved him on the chest before storming away, moving to retrieve what seemed to be his clothes. She threw a bundle at his head and it might have actually been comical, if it wasn't for the hurt I could see playing over both girls' faces.

"Lib – Lisa – this isn't – ah, hell …" Nathan appeared to resign himself for the worse, clutching his clothes tightly as Lisa found his shoes. "I take it this is over?"

"Who are you TALKING to?!" Libby yelled. "There's TWO OF US, remember?!"

"I can't _believe_ this!" Lisa shrieked, moving to stand next to Libby. Apparently, it was women united! "This entire time? _Seriously_?! Get the hell OUT of my house!"

"But–!"

"OUT!" Libby and Lisa ended up screaming at the same time.

Dickhead didn't need telling twice. He scrambled for the door and Lisa didn't even give him time to get dressed; she simply shoved him yet again and he staggered down the front stairs of her house. At the bottom, he must have noticed that she was still holding his shoes, since he tentatively asked,

"Um … am I going to get my shoes back?"

"Oh, you'll get them," Lisa grinned. Then, she offered one of the shoes to Libby. "You want?" she asked her.

"Oh," Libby said, eyes gleaming. "I _want_."

It was a bloody incredible sight to watch the two women throw Dickhead's shoes after him. In the end, the last image I saw was of him running at full pelt down the street, still in his boxers and his trousers trailing out behind him.

Back in the doorway, Libby and Lisa both laughed, slapping high fives with each other. "I'm going to _kill_ that bastard when I see him next!" Libby said, almost crying in her mirth. "You're golden! Like I said, I'm Libby."

"Lisa," the other woman said. She held out a hand for Libby to shake; her hair flowed straight down her back and she was probably a couple of years older than Libby. "I'd be more embarrassed about this, but you've kind of already seen me half-naked, so …"

"If it would make you more comfortable, I could take my top off?"

I let out a strangled sound at that and both women turned to see me, still hovering awkwardly in the entrance to the lounge.

"Oh," I said, as if I had only just noticed them there. "Hello! I'm James, I'm … um, with her?" I gestured with a hand to Libby.

"Nice to meet you," Lisa told me. "Don't tell me, angry older brother here as back-up?"

"God, no!" Libby said at once and I couldn't help but gag at the thought; _brother_? Could there be anything more disgusting to be mistaken as? "James is a … well, I suppose he's a mate. From work. When I found out about Dickhead Nathan, he gave me chocolate and offered up his fabulous stalking skills. Nice house, by the way."

Lisa just gave a bemused laugh, rubbing her temple with a hand. "This has been the most bizarre day of my life. Why don't I make us some tea and we can bitch about the bastard the rest of the night?"

"Sounds fantastic," Libby answered. Having heard enough, I was just about to turn and leave – growing up with Lily Potter as a sister, I'd come to notice when girls wanted privacy – but for some reason, Libby grabbed hold of my hand.

"Libby?"

"You have to help me tell the story!" she said at once. "That's all right, isn't it, Lisa?"

"Of course!" she called, heading for her kitchen. "Any bloke who's willing to give up chocolate and stalk their friend's cheating boyfriend is worth hanging onto."

I returned Libby's grin before she tugged me into the kitchen after Lisa.

* * *

(_2030_)

Not surprisingly, Libby and Lisa had ended up shrieking and cursing Dickhead to hell and back almost till about three in the morning. I'd had no idea that girls could _talk _for so long! Lisa had let us crash at her place and, in the end, Libby and I had left the next morning with Lisa's number and promises to meet up for drinks at some point.

Honestly, throughout that night, I'll admit that I had been rather scared for my life. Their avenging comments hadn't ceased to go as far as chopping off manly parts and maiming while asleep, but thankfully, every time, they had reassured me that I was the exception to their revenge plans.

"Oh, mate," Rose put in, looking astonished. "That's when it hit you?"

"I was willing to drop everything and _stalk her ex_ for her," I nodded. "Hell, I wanted to strangle the bloke! Only, Libby really wanted to do it. When I finally said goodbye to her the next morning, I had left thinking that I really was in over my head."

"She called you her exception," Rose smirked.

"Yeah," I grinned. "I liked that term."

* * *

A/N: _Please note:_ My teaching practicum has gone quite spectacularly intense and difficult. As a result, I can't promise regular chapters until it is at least over (my last day being 27th September 2013). I hope this chapter can tide you over and that you all understand. Be rest assured that this story will continue eventually and if I _do_ happen to get a chapter ready for posting in the meantime, you will all be the first to know about it. :)

(If there are spelling errors, or the quality of writing doesn't seem as good as it usually is in this chapter, I'm very sorry. I haven't had time to go over it as much as I would have. I promise to come back to that).

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I had a lot of fun with it; James and Libby have so far been _awesome_ to write. Please let me know what you all think; reviews help make my story better. :)

Until a promised next time -

- Moon. :D


	6. When James slept with Libby

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own James Potter, nightclubs, alcohol, Freddie Mercury, or one night stands. I do, however, own Libby. :)

* * *

When James Met Libby.

James Sirius Potter has no idea why he's telling the story of how he fell in love. He's not even romantic! Falling in love went against everything he believed in … but it happened. And he invites you to listen if you dare. :James/OC recommended reading with GIR and CGIR NextGen:

* * *

Chapter 5: When James slept with Libby.

I know, I know.

You probably read the title of this part of the story and thought, _'What_?! JAMES! You and Libby had SEX and you didn't even _think_ to start the story here?!'

I was thinking it, too, honestly!

But while in some ways that night was the catalyst for everything that had ever happened between us, those moments that happened first were crucial, I swear. I know you're all _dying_ to know what happened, but I _did_ tell you that our story was screwed up.

First, we met. Then, we met again.

And right from the get go, Libby and I had _something_. That something was _dangerous_. It was primal, it was wild, and if the flirting was anything to go by, sleeping with her was inevitable.

But to this day, I wish she remembered it.

"Oh, I was wondering when you were going to bring this part up," Rose smirked at me. "… any chance you can downplay my part in it?"

"No way in _hell_," I said at once. "If it hadn't been for you, it never would have happened!"

"Oh, you exaggerate," Rose muttered, glancing away.

But I wasn't, I promise. I know you're probably all _screaming_ at me to just leap straight into this story, but the thing is, it doesn't start with me.

It all starts with Rose.

It was roughly two years after Libby and I had stalked her cheating ex through the streets of London. Rose and Scorpius Malfoy got together when they were sixteen, way back a million years ago at Hogwarts. I've still got no bloody clue how they managed to get from there, bickering and only just learning how to call each other by their first names, to now, engaged and explosively in love. Somehow, they worked, and in December, 2026, Scorpius got the opportunity at work to be a part of a Muggle slavery trial in Russia. Yeah, it was brilliant for his career and all … but it meant that he was going to be out of the country for a month.

An entire _month_.

To say Rose went insane is a _bit_ of an understatement.

Rose's side of the story I only know because my brother, Al, happened to turn up after I had gotten … er, _preoccupied_, and he had taken great pleasure in telling me all about it. The night Scorpius was supposed to come home, he, well, didn't. And since my cousin can't do things halfway, Rose had decided that the best option to get over it was obviously to get blind drunk and go out partying with her mates.

Said mates happened to be Bea, and the one and only Libby Fletcher.

"D'you have to make me sound like a lovesick puppy?" Rose grumbled, folding her arms in a huff. "I swear, I wasn't _that_ upset …"

"No, my dear cousin, you were _pissed off_," I pointed out. "Which, if I may remind you, is probably even more dangerous!"

Rose might have sulked a bit more, but then, she seemed to realise something and perked up. "I can't believe you're actually going to _tell me_ what happened!" she said, eyes going wide. "I've been trying to get the whole story out of you for _years_, to no avail!"

"Well, we can't let our imaginary audience down now, can we?"

* * *

(_2026_)

"Mate, I'm telling you," Fred began. "Just get _over_ it! She's said no to you _how_ many times, now?"

"Fred, _I'm_ telling you–!"

"There's a fine line between being keen and being desperate, mate," Fred pointed out.

I simply grumbled at that; I wasn't _desperate_! To prove that fact, I had suggested we come out in the first place. The Pulse was mine and Fred's club of choice; it was dark, it was trashy, it was always packed and it _always _guaranteed a good time. I loved it here! Seriously, the people you meet, knocking back shots at the bar, or moving on the dance floor … everyone's got a story.

Fred always had my back. He was _always_ my mate, my partner in crime! But, for some reason, he seemed to think that mentioning _one story_ about a girl that doesn't involve sex means that I'm falling in love with her! _Seriously_. Is nothing sacred anymore?

"Fred, I love you and all that shit," I told my best friend. "But you seriously need to tone down the drama. Libby's a mate; I was just telling a funny story!"

"Yeah, she's a mate you've been trying to sleep with for the past two and a half years!" Fred pointed out.

"… ok, so you're not exactly wrong there," I admitted.

"So come _on_!" Fred whined, bumping me on the arm with his drink. "You're being bloody pathetic! Hell, you couldn't even keep up not flirting with her for more than a few months!"

"Hey, I'd like to see you try it," I pointed out.

Fred scoffed. "Like I'd let myself get to that stage. James, mate, you need to _forget_ about it. I mean, really, if a girl tells you no, she generally means it, or do you not remember the Danielle Morgan Stage?"

"Ah, hell, you just _had _to bring that up, didn't you?" I said. Seriously, mentioning the time when twelve-year-old James fell hopelessly for his first girlfriend and didn't take too well to her breaking up with him after three weeks was _not_ a way to boost a man's ego.

Fred just turned to grin at me. "C'mon," he said. "I just want you to have a good time! Believe it or not, I actually care about you. There's no point whining about something you can't have."

"I'm not whining!" I said at once. "How many times do I have to say it? _I do not have feelings for Libby_!"

"Yeah, whatever. OHH, gotta dig this song!" Fred's mind naturally went off on a tangent once more, knocking back the last of his drink before slamming the glass down on the nearest table and darting for the dance floor. He'd had his eye on a blond girl for the past fifteen minutes and sure enough, he made a beeline straight for her.

Five minutes later, they're moving in a way I'm pretty sure only _just_ qualifies as dancing with her tongue down his throat. Nice.

I finished my own drink with the intention of working the crowd; since Fred was lost in his own little snog-world of booze and women, I was essentially on my own now. The music was pounding, so it was impossible to sit still. There was a dark-haired girl near the bar who I'd noticed had been by herself the last half an hour, so I stood to make my way through the swaying mass of dancers …

… and a woman with a lot of red hair smashed straight into me.

"JAMES!" Rose cried, her arms swinging round my neck. "That _is_ James, right? I haven't just hugged a complete stranger?"

"Nah, it's your cousin," I laughed, hugging Rose back. "What're you doing out tonight?"

"NOT getting back at Scorpius, I can tell you that!" Rose said, cheerfully. She let go of my neck, but promptly stumbled straight into Bea. "WHOA!"

"… how much have you had?" I asked, bemused now.

"I don't bloody know – Bea?"

"There was the Firewhiskey," Bea Bowmen started counting on her fingers, an arm slung around her best friend's waist. Bea was an intensely kind woman that Rose had met on her second day of Hogwarts. With gorgeous blond curls and brown eyes, I might have gone for her if Al hadn't violently hissed at me back when I thirteen and he was twelve that if I _ever _tried anything with Bea, he would kick my arse. It was the only time I'd ever taken him seriously! "Then the Vodka and that berry stuff that tasted nice … wasn't there some sort of cocktail mixed in there?"

"_Oh, my god_!" a third voice shrieked. Both Rose and Bea cried out as Libby came hurtling from nowhere, ploughing straight into the girls and they all nearly pitched over. "… some bloke thought I was a _princess_!"

"I see you're taking advantage of the city's finest, Libby!" I said.

Libby glanced over, her black hair thrown up in a bun that I was pretty sure was messy on purpose; by the end of the night, it was going to be all over her shoulders. "James!" she cried, happily. "Guess what! I'm a princess!"

"… clearly," I said.

"HEY!" Rose suddenly cried. "James! You look like Freddie Mercury!"

"Pardon?" I asked, extremely confused now.

"He's a singer! Mum loves him!" Rose said. Throwing her arms into the air, she suddenly belted out, "_I want to ride my bicycle! Bicycle_!"

"I thought Freddie Mercury was the one with the moustache?" Bea asked.

"Aw, let Rosie have her fantasy," Libby waved a hand, leaving Rose to twirl and sing.

I'm not entirely sure what planet my cousin comes from, but I've long since accepted that Rose Weasley is not one of the normal variety. Having started Hogwarts as an eleven-year-old bossy know-it-all, I had expected her to eventually grow up in much the same fashion. However, she had somehow grown into a 20-year-old nutcase!

That was about when Libby called my name again and, suddenly, my attention was nowhere near my cousin. Bea had shrugged and started to sing back up to Rose's performance, but Libby was sauntering towards me (or, well, I'm sure she would be sauntering if she hadn't been drinking and wearing high-heeled death traps). "Just realised! You've finally taken me _out tonight_!"

At once, my mind went back to the lyrics she had crooned to me that day at the café. "I swear, if you sing that song again, I will _not_ be held accountable for my actions," I said, bluntly. "… although," I added. "out of curiosity, do you remember those verses that you'd forgotten?"

"I dunno," Libby said. "It was years ago, wasn't it? Hang on …" She thought for a moment, raising an eyebrow quizzically.

She wasn't _actually going to_ _sing_, was she?

"_I've had a knack from way back_!"

Oh, yes. She was singing.

She grinned, reaching out with her hands and squeezing my shoulders; possibly to try and steady herself, or more likely to just try and kill me. She continued with the verse, "_At breaking the rules once I learn the games. Get up! Life's too quick, I know someplace sick_," She gave a wiggle of her hips as she sang the last line, "_Where this chick'll dance in the fla-a-ames_ …"

"… you know you're _brilliant_, right?" I grinned.

"You say that nearly every shift we work together," Libby pointed out. "I've figured out by now not to take you seri-sous-sy!"

"You _what_?"

"Seri-sous … seri-ous-sy …" Libby's garbled wording trailed off as she simply shrugged and finished with, "Whatever! You get what I mean."

I just laughed at her words; even pissed off her face, she was still the most lively, entertaining person I'd ever met. "How did you even remember that day?" I asked her, referring back to _Café Julio: The Musical_. "You're right, it happened like, two years ago!"

"And forget the look on your face?" Libby snorted. "You practically face-planted!"

"Oh, come on, you know I've never been able to resist your charm," I teased.

"Of course, I can be pretty charming."

"Bloody charming," I told her. I hesitated slightly before taking a step closer; she didn't move. I took that as a good sign and decided to push my luck by asking, "You, um … wanna dance?"

Libby grinned up at me. "James, you have _no _idea what you're getting into," she said at once, letting her hands trail down my arms until she had hold of my hands. I stared as she tugged me towards the dance floor, Rose and Bea still singing and dancing together; the two didn't even notice that Libby was dragging me away, which I was slightly thankful for. God knows that Rose would have some choice (and teasing) comments about _that_.

"… so you're drunk too, right?" I pointed out as Libby pulled herself in, arms going around my neck.

"Isn't everyone?" she asked.

"Well, I'm only asking seeing as you actually agreed to dance with me!" I said, my hands on her waist, the purple fabric of her dress bunching up under my fingers. "Normally by this point, you would have slapped me and told me _in your dreams, James_!"

She threw back her head and laughed at my pathetic attempt to mimic her voice. "Everyone deserves a dream, right?" she said, eventually.

"Is it _your_ dream?"

She leaned in close then, her teeth almost scraping my ear and I supressed a shiver as she whispered, "Why don't we dance and see?"

I think my mind was too blank to really comprehend it when Libby started to move; the songs at the club were fast, pounding, a techno screeching, practically begging the dancers to throw their arms in the air and grind against each other. Libby matched the pace, her body moving with mine, and it was almost like there wasn't a dress and a thin shirt between us. She twisted, she spun, and I couldn't even tell you how many songs passed. All I could see, all I could hear was Libby; she threw a leg around mine, our ankles curling together as she leaned away, head tipped back so all I could see of her was the skin at her smooth throat and her bun threatened to let her hair tumble down with her. When she snapped herself back upright with a laugh, she wound her arms completely around my neck and I stopped effing _breathing_ when her hips rocked into mine.

"… you don't practice this at home, do you?" I somehow managed to gasp out.

"Why? Would you care to join if I did?" Libby smirked at me, still moving in time to the music.

"Oh, hell no," I said at once. "I'd sit back and watch!"

"No, no," Libby said at once. "If you're gonna watch me dance, there's got to be something in it for me; you're joining!"

"Why Libby, was that a reference to how attractive you think I am?"

"You wish," Libby teased. "Besides, wouldn't it be boring to just sit and watch?"

"Anyone else, yes," I told her. In a flash of showing off, I quickly span Libby around with me, her high-heeled feet never even leaving the floor; she was already wrapped around me, but the movement still managed to bring her closer. "but you I'd _never_ get tired of watching."

She glanced up at me at that point with a strange look in her eyes and, suddenly, I became very aware that this was probably the closest we'd ever physically been. I had to consciously tell myself not to wrap my arms any tighter, lest she be unable to breathe, and berate certain body parts to get the hell under control before I went _nuts_. Rose and Bea were not far away, apparently ignoring the music of the club completely, as they were still singing _Queen_ songs. They were currently belting out, "_I have spent all my years believing you! I juuuust can't get no release, loooord_!"

While I was hoping to make some funny, off-hand comment about Rose's singing to try and ease some of the tension, Libby effectively killed that by staring at me with her eyes slightly unfocused, like she was thinking, and thinking _hard_. "You … you really mean that, don't you?" she asked. "What you just said."

"'course I mean it, Lib," I grinned. What? It was the truth!

It was apparently what she'd wanted to hear, however, because in the next moment, Libby Fletcher leaned in and kissed me straight on the mouth.

I'll admit it: for a moment, I froze. My arms were stuck around her waist and as she pressed her mouth to mine, I completely freaked out. _Holy shit_! Libby was _kissing_ me! She was kissing me and I had no idea what I was doing. _For god's sake, James, you've been trying to do this for years, and _now_ you decide to freeze?!_

But then _she_ moved; kissing me again, her lips gliding against my own, as if drawing me in, taunting me: _come on, James. Just let go … _and I stopped thinking. I _never_ think around her. Her arms, already around my neck, moved to run her fingers through my hair, holding my head and not letting me move an inch. An explosion of feeling threatened to burst out of me; it was arousal, plain and simple, but there was something else mixed in, something I hadn't noticed before this point. It made me haul her closer, if that were at all possible; I let my hands roam up her back, pressing against every dip and curve and bump of her spine.

Then, I couldn't take it anymore.

"This – this is a dream right?" I murmured against her lips.

"James, just go with it," she breathed back.

So I did. It was entirely surreal, being surrounded by dancers, wrapped up in Libby, and I could vaguely tell that somewhere, Rose and Bea were cheering. In fact, now that I finally had Libby's mouth on mine, I feared that I would never want it to leave. However, suddenly, there was a loud _bang _from behind us and we both pulled apart to look around in confusion.

"_Oh, my god_!" Bea was saying, fawning over Rose who was, for some reason, sprawled on the gritty club floor. "Rosie–"

"I'm _fiiiiine_!" Rose warbled, letting Bea help her stagger to her feet. "I didn't even get to my big finish–"

"Rose, you _fell off a table_!" Libby laughed, swinging her head around so she could face her friend, her arms still slung around my neck.

"Nah, nah, I'm fine!" Rose said again, though she was wincing and holding a hand to a scraped knee, her other arm now tightly around Bea's shoulders. "Go back to snogging!"

"I will," Libby grinned and, to my utter surprise (and joy), she crushed her lips to mine once more.

* * *

Somehow, we ended up snogging outside the club.

I don't really know how we got there. One second we were inside, kissing and dancing, and the next, I had gasped that I needed air and she was suddenly dragging me behind her once again. Outside the club, the paint was peeling and the street lamps were almost all broken; there was an alley way between the club and the pub next door, which Fred and I often used to Apparate into without Muggle eyes around. My head was pounding (from the alcohol, music, or Libby, I had no idea) so I headed for the alley without much thought. We had barely taken several paces down it, however, before Libby had practically thrown me against the concrete wall.

Her tongue was in my mouth, almost pushing me to heart failure, just as much as she was pushing her body into mine and the wall. After several moments, she broke away from my lips to assault my neck, and I finally found the breath to burst out,

"… what exactly is your plan, here?"

"What d'you _think_?" she growled.

A hot rush of images flooded through my head – a million fantasies of what Libby was suggesting that had crossed my mind over millions of years – but they all had one thing in common.

It wasn't like this.

"Lib–" I gasped and, when she ignored her name, I took hold of her upper arms and pushed her away slightly, hating myself for it. I let go of her rather quickly; I couldn't seem to concentrate at all when our skin was touching. "No – not – just _not here_ –"

"What d'you mean?" she said, eyes wild.

"Libby, I'm not going to have sex with you in an _alleyway_ outside a _nightclub_," I insisted.

"Well, then …" Libby thought for a moment and for a second, I thought I'd somehow blown it. She was opening her eyes through the drunken haze and was seeing me for what I really was: her friend's disgusting cousin who she _worked_ with and spent half her life teasing. Why the hell would she sleep with _him_? I didn't think my heart had ever sunk so low … which kind of terrified me.

I mean, _heart_? _Seriously_, James?

But then, she moved back towards me, a delightfully sinful look on her face. With my back against the wall, there was nowhere to escape her … but in the end, why would I want to?

"… James?" she breathed. "You'd better get me somewhere you will."

I don't think I'd ever Apparated faster.

* * *

My flat isn't exactly grand castle material; hell, I work for the Department of Magical Games and Sports, it's not what you could call a high salary, or even a medium salary for that matter. It was one bedroomed, with a decent lounge and kitchen area, though the amount of crap covering the place did cross my mind; did I really have to be such a slob?

But then Libby was there, and she was on me, kissing and working pure magic as she let her hands wander, smoothing up my chest and around my neck, before heading back down again. It was enough to make me forget that I had about a week's worth of Chinese takeaways on the table. "Room–" Libby suddenly said in a muffled voice, in between kisses. "Where's – your room?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I grinned into her lips. This was pretty much all of my dreams coming true in one night! I _had _to draw this out for as long as possible. I reached down and ran a hand down her leg, yanking it up when I reached her knee so it rested around my hip.

Libby gasped at the movement, biting down on my bottom lip. "James – I swear–"

"Yeah? What're you going to do to me?"

She wrestled one of her wandering hands between us once more, which I thought was a feat in itself since I was determined that there should _never_ be space between us again. But she dragged her fingers across my stomach; my breath hitched and I gripped her leg tighter when she hit the waistband of my jeans.

"Oh, I don't know, James …" she pulled away to whisper with an evil look. Her hand trailed _down_. "Use your imagination …"

"I – holy mother of – _ah_!" I said in a strangled voice. "You … sorry, what was it you – AH! – wanted?"

She grinned. "Where's your room?"

I kissed her; hard, deep and ready to explode. "_Run_," I told her.

Libby never could take a challenge lying down; she had torn herself away barely a second later, nearly falling flat when she tripped over a stray pile of washing that I was yet to get around to. It became pretty clear where my room was, seeing as it was the only door that didn't have a bathroom in it, but she turned it into a _game_. She let me get close enough to touch her before darting out of my reach, laughing and threatening to take her dress off without me. Despite my growing irritation to just get her to stop and _kiss me bloody properly_, I indulged in her laughs and teasing. I managed to sneak a caress here, a graze of lips there, but she was always gone before I could get a good enough hold and it was _fun_.

I'd _never_ had this much fun with a woman, before.

However, eventually, even I got to the point where I needed her, _now_. With a growl, I leapt across the cluttered coffee table as she tried to jump from the sofa and I grabbed her around the waist from behind. I ignored her shrieks of, "JAMES! PUT ME DOWN!" as I carried her straight to my room, kicking the door closed behind me and _throwing _her onto my bed.

Libby barely had time to breath out, "Good god – mmft!" before I was on her, kissing her deeply as I rolled onto my bed with her. I'd never been embarrassed at the contents of my bedroom before; sure, it was untidy, dirty, and probably had week old dishes under a clothes pile somewhere, but I never cared. However, for some reason this time, I found myself wishing that I had at least changed the duvet cover for something that _didn't _feature the flying Quidditch players of the Holyhead Harpies. I mean, _really_? I'm such a girl!

Thankfully, Libby seemed to be too distracted by my hands to notice, where they traced her back slowly up and down as she kissed from top of me. She suddenly broke away (which I was not happy about), to ask, "How – how long have you wanted this?"

"Too long – _way_ too long," I said, voice dark and guttural. I yanked at her head, kissing her and quickly flipping her. She let out a surprised sound into my mouth as I suddenly had her pressed into my mattress, leaning in with my body and pressing my entire weight into her so that every inch was touching. She wrapped her legs around my waist and the feel of her around me made me let out a low groan. Then, just as I realised that now, she would be able to _quite obviously _tell how I was feeling, it suddenly occurred to me:

Libby was _drunk_.

"Lib – Libby–!" I said at once, pulling away from her lips. "You – you've been drinking–"

"So?" she muttered, pulling at my hair so she could kiss my jaw instead. "You have, too."

"Not as much," It was torture to tear myself away, but I did it; I _couldn't_ take advantage of her like this. I moved up to rest on my forearms, looking down at her. Rather naturally, she looked incredibly pissed off that I had pulled myself away, but that, combined with the wild look in her eyes and the red in her cheeks is what made her so god-damned _beautiful_. "Libby, I need to know … do you want this? As in _you_, not the alcohol, absolutely honest to god? Because if this is you making a crazy snap-judgement, I just _can't_ …"

"James," Libby cut over me. "I haven't been flirting with you for two and a half years for nothing."

"Yeah, but–"

Libby immediately slapped a hand over my mouth. "I just want this, James," she said, smiling. "This is _not_ the alcohol talking … I'm fairly sure. Now are you going to get this dress off me? 'cause I know I look hot, but …"

If I had been in a completely sound mind, I might have still hesitated, doubting the authenticity of her words, considering that she _was_ absolutely drunk, here. As it was, I took her word for it; hell, in the end, she was Libby Fletcher, and she was basically all I had wanted for years now. So, let my head tell me to shut up and instead, say:

_Screw it_.

I held her waist and pulled her upright with me, now on my knees; her legs seemed to tighten instinctively around my hips. It was becoming hard to think, but her dress was already somewhere up around her waist; it wasn't too hard to snake my hands around her back and yank down the zipper. I tugged at the material, purposefully letting my hands trail against her; I massaged circles into her skin, slowly moving higher and higher. Libby had her forehead pressed against mine, until my hands skimmed her bra and she moaned my name, sounding half annoyed at how slow I was being, and half just incredibly turned-on.

By the time I had thrown the dress to the floor, Libby had already stuck her hands under my shirt, her fingers like flames. I grabbed at her hair; determined that I live out the fantasy, I yanked it out of its bun, watching the waves tumble down around her shoulders. Libby simply smirked at me as I fisted my hands into her hair and it continued when I finally kissed her, fervently. She was about as close as she could get, skin touching skin, and I swear Libby was all fire. From my clear desperation to have her, she obviously thought she had the upper hand (especially if her smirk was anything to go by).

And, well, we can't have that, can we?

Libby was still grinning through eager kisses, but that was quick to turn into a strangled groan as I let go of her hair to run my hands over her –

* * *

(_2030_)

"OK!" Rose suddenly yelled, staring at me.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"You can – um – stop there," she said. She was looking rather awkward and her neck was flushing a bright, boiling red. "Your story, you can stop it right there! I've long since accepted that while I love the fact that you and Libby are together, I do not want my ears to _ever_ be assaulted with stories of your sex life."

"You're being a bit dramatic, Rosie," I told her, grinning. "This was one of the best moments of my life, here! It's seriously a part of the story–"

"That's brilliant and all, but I already have _way _too much information," Rose said, folding her arms with a defiant look. "Just … skip the details, _please_."

"Oh, fine. In that case … I slept with her, I suppose."

Rose considered this for a moment. "You once told me that that night was the moment everything imploded. When you figured it out. Was that true?"

"Of course it was bloody true!"

"Then tell me that – not the mechanics, _god _no, I think I've figured out what happens by now – but how did you figure out how you felt?"

* * *

(_2026_)

It was wild.

I'm not going to lie, I've been around. I've had several women fall for my charms, right here in this bed, but Libby was … something else. She made it playful, she made it _fun_, and it was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. She would tease me with my name, whispering into my ear, and every moan, every grip of our fingers, and every dig of her heel into my back, was sought with desperation. I _needed_ her, I needed every inch of her, and when the light of dawn was starting to shine through my windows, I had a very dangerous thought:

_Libby, I love you_.

I'll admit, it frightened me. My insides were a contradictory mix of freezing terror and blinding desire, but still, I only held onto her tighter. Forget about it, James, it was just a crazy thought in the middle of an extremely heated moment! Meant nothing!

_Nothing_.

But when we were falling apart around each other, I had to bite my teeth into Libby's shoulder to stop myself from screaming the words aloud.

* * *

I rolled over, groggy and sleep-deprived. What time _had _I eventually gone to sleep? It had been well after daybreak, I remembered that. Sun shined in my face and the blankets around me were haphazard and half ripped from the mattress and on the floor.

Then, the memory of last night hit me.

Oh, my bloody _god_, I slept with Libby Fletcher!

I shoved back my hair, unable to wipe the stupid grin off my face. I had acted out this occasion for god knows how long in my head in a thousand different ways, but I don't think I had ever expected something like _that_. For some reason, I had half imagined that if this miraculous event _did_ suddenly occur, I'd be able to live my life complete. I'd die a happy-to-the-point-of-delusion man.

But I was wrong. I was blissfully, ridiculously happy, but my life would never be _complete_. Because I had gotten a taste of Libby Fletcher and now, I wanted _more_.

I stretched out an arm then, needing to feel her warm body against mine. I thought of maybe pulling her against my chest and perhaps running a hand up her gorgeous and toned thigh –

But the sheets next to me were cold and empty.

She was gone.

* * *

A/N: Ohhhhh, yeah. You knew it was coming. It happened. And there is a hell of a lot more to go! Hope you all enjoyed this one. Please review and tell me what you think!

(And thank you everyone, for your patience in finally getting this chapter).

Until next time -

- Moon. :D


	7. When James slept with the hot dancer

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own James Potter, hot dancers, or awkward morning after's. I do, however, own Libby. :)

* * *

When James Met Libby.

James Sirius Potter has no idea why he's telling the story of how he fell in love. He's not even romantic! Falling in love went against everything he believed in … but it happened. And he invites you to listen if you dare. :James/OC recommended reading with GIR and CGIR NextGen:

* * *

Chapter 6: When James slept with the hot dancer chick.

Um, yeah.

Libby and I slept together. Did it send me into a tailspin of madness and chaos?

Why, yes. Yes, it did.

If the title of the last part of the story got you going, then what the hell is _this_ title going to do to you? You're clearly wondering: how the _hell_ does a hot dancer chick come into this? Seriously, to this day, I'm not entirely sure! All I know was that I was _hurt_, and that wasn't a usual feeling for me. It's a part of mine and Libby's story that I don't like to remember, and if I had my way I would leave it out, but I _swear_, it's essential to understand how I handled it.

(IE. not very well).

I was euphoric after that one night with Libby. It had honestly been the best night of my life up until that point! But it simultaneously freaked the hell out of me.

It wasn't so much about the sex – hell, I'd had enough experience in that department to know when it was _incredible_ – rather, it was the scary feelings that came along with it. Honestly … I'd never associated sex with feelings before. To me, it was just something fun to do, something to get that release.

What the hell did I know about _love_?

* * *

(_2026_)

The world seemed to have a new zing to it! Colours were brighter, birds chirped louder, y'know, that sort of shit. My head was bloody pounding, but for some reason, walking into Café Julio was still a delightfully pleasant experience.

Bloody hell, I _must_ have gotten some last night if I was using words like 'delightfully pleasant'!

Ok, yeah, Libby walked out on me. And as wonderful as I was feeling, there was still a slight sense of dread hanging over me, since I'd _never_ had to face a woman again after a one-night stand before. In the past I might have made them breakfast in the morning or let them use my shower, but essentially, all that was said was a simple, "Thanks for last night, blah, blah, see you, mate!" I was rather used to girls sneaking out before I woke; hell, I even made sure to keep the window open for them!

But this time, I _worked_ with the girl and I while I was dying to see her, I wasn't so sure if that was a good thing. Usually, I'd be content to never see the girl again. _Never_ had I woken up to empty sheets, thought, "Oh, _shit_," then actually considered waking Rose from her hung-over stupor to make her tell me where Libby lived. It was a kind of crazy feeling, but I couldn't seem to shake the thought of wanting to see her again, wantingto have more.

Don't get me wrong, I didn't _love_ her or anything; my thoughts from last night were just from the heat of the moment.

They didn't _mean_ anything.

Totally not.

But, I'll admit, I _may_ have discovered that I _possibly_ liked her a bit more than I originally thought. And now, I _needed_ her.

Considering that she had disappeared in the middle of the night, I should have _expected_ an awkward silent treatment. However, for some reason, it had never even occurred to me! Maybe I had just gotten too used to the flirting over the years, so that it had become automatic to expect the answer of my calling out, "Hey, gorgeous Libby!" to be, "Morning, stud muffin!" or some other joking variation thereof.

But this morning, her answer was nothing. Skipping happily through the doors of the café, I spotted her immediately, working as barista. However, she only glanced up in between filling orders to sweep the crowd quickly, her eyes dark and tired (which wasn't all that surprising, seeing as we hadn't exactly slept until well after daybreak) and her black hair a wild mess, pulled back in a ponytail.

God, she was beautiful.

"Morning, gorgeous!" I called and her face snapped to mine with a look of, _oh, bloody hell_. Just when I was about to comment on her clear lack of sleep, she turned away from me without saying a word in reply, instead calling out the name of the customer for the next order of hot coffee. I didn't even bother try and keep the disappointment off my face. I considered trying again, but knew how stubborn that girl could be. I noticed Aurora's eyes following us during the exchange as she waited tables, but I didn't say anything, just huffed bitterly for the break room.

Seriously, James? You thought it was going to go better than that?

"Whoa, mate, what's your deal?" Butch, one of the chefs, said to me when I slammed though the kitchen doors to grab an apron.

I just glared at him from where he was chopping vegetables. "Nothing," I insisted, throwing the apron over my head. "I'm bloody fantastic! Which station am I at?"

"Uh, you're actually out front today," Butch said, raising an eyebrow, almost as if daring me to counter him. "Take it up with Aurora, if you want …"

Absolutely perfect. I managed to supress a groan and instead, threw on a happy face. "Why would I have a problem with it?" I told him. "It's fine!" I left the chefs behind in a now confused flurry of food, but I didn't care; I stormed back out behind the front counter, avoiding looking at the oh-so-addicting body of Libby Fletcher. I would just have to hope that Aurora would put me on waiting, or hell, even lobby, just _anything_ but –

"James!" Aurora called out, apparently just noticing me as she approached the counter, several trays of dirty dishes balanced precariously on her arms. "We're completely swamped today, I need you on barista with Libby."

_Bloody fantastic_.

* * *

Think of the most awkward shift of your life … then multiply it by a million. That was probably almost (not quite) as awkward as it was to have to work alongside Libby. Working at the same station, it was impossible to not speak to each other, or accidentally brush fingers as we passed cups between us and I hated it, because instead of our usual relationship, Libby had retreated into a stony silence. She only spoke unless she was repeating an order or requesting something and every touch of her hands sent shivers down my spine that I was forced to ignore.

This felt wrong; this professional silence between us wasn't _natural_! If we had been working this shift just yesterday, she'd be bumping into me on purpose, throwing back my comments with a teasing toss of her pony-tail, regaling me her stories of her recent nights out. Over the past two and a half years, Libby and I had created a system that worked for us! For god's sake, I helped the girl stalk her cheating ex-boyfriend through the streets of London! Surely that guaranteed me at least a _glance_?

Libby didn't seem to think so.

At least I _tried_ to keep things normal; I spoke to her how I normally would, hoping for a reaction, _any_ reaction, to keep me going … because no matter what I might say, I couldn't stand the thought of losing Libby. But she countered my every remark, even when I asked her if her head was pounding as much as mine was. She had just sent me a withering look worthy of Rose Weasley and snapped for the next order.

Eventually, I got sick of her mood and I started snapping back. By the last hour of our shift, we had seemed to figure out that not talking was a lot safer and had just gotten to the point of ignoring each other completely. Unfortunately, as a result of neither of us mentioning that we had hold of it, an entire tray of cups was sent careening to the floor. Hot coffee and porcelain cups smashed _everywhere_ and everyone within ten feet turned to stare.

"What the hell?!" Libby cried, stooping to hastily pick up the fallen tray. "You were supposed to have that!"

"My hands were full!" I countered, gesturing with the cups in my hands. "You'd _know_ that if you actually graced me with–!"

"ENOUGH!" Aurora was suddenly storming forward through the tide of curious customers. When she was close enough, she snatched the tray out of Libby's hands with an unusually furious expression on her face. She turned to face Taylor at the register and added, "Taylor, take over as barista. I'll send Damon out to cover you. _James! Libby_!" she added in a bark and I noticed that I wasn't the only one who had jumped. Aurora jabbed a hand at the door to out back and yelled, "Manager's office! _Now_!"

Like little kids in trouble at Hogwarts, Libby and I were forced to troop into the office behind Aurora. Everyone we passed out back stared and I noticed Butch as he waved his knife and mouthed, "_What did you do_?!" It was rather satisfying to be able to slam the door to the manager's office shut, cutting off their damn curious faces.

Unfortunately, that meant I was stuck in a wardrobe-sized room with two women who, as far as I was aware, were both angry at me. The perpetually messy manager's office was just big enough to contain a large safe and a desk, the latter of which Aurora perched a hip on as she turned to glare at Libby and I. Standing before her, Aurora folded her arms with a look that honestly scared me!

"Now," she began, dangerously. "I have no idea what is wrong with you today, and seeing as it's you two, I don't think I even _want_ to know. But whatever it is, I will _not_ have it disrupting the work place."

"I was just trying to do my job, Aurora," Libby put in.

I opened my mouth to retort, but Aurora cut me off.

"I don't care who did what!" she said. "I will not tolerate smashing equipment and worse, _arguing in front of customers_! Now, I like you two, and I'd really hate to have to fire your arses, so you are both going to take fifteen minute breaks. _I'm not done yet_," she added, her voice low and serious, clearly noting the surprisingly relieved looks on our faces. "Those fifteen minutes are to be spent here, in this office, where you will talk out whatever the hell it is that has made you act like this. When you come back to the floor, I will expect both of you to be calm, professional and willing to work together to brew the best damn coffee our customers have ever tasted. _Understand_?"

She didn't even give us a chance to nod; by the time I had opened my mouth, she was already storming out of the office, letting the door bang shut behind her. For a moment, there was silence as Libby and I just stood in our positions next to each other, rooted to the spot. Then, Libby sighed and she moved to take over Aurora's position sat on the manager's desk.

"Please, for the love of god," she began, finally meeting my eyes. "_Never_ let me go out drinking with just Rose and Bea ever again."

"Fair enough," I answered, leaning against the office door.

She didn't reply for several moments, so eventually, I just shoved my hands into my apron pockets in hopes that I wouldn't do something stupid, like try to pull her close to me, or run my hands up her back and slide them into her hair, Libby sinking into me …

Anyway.

"So is that it?" I asked.

"James, what else is there to say, really?" Libby rolled her eyes. "We had too much to drink and we slept together, it doesn't take a genius to put it together!"

"Yeah, but – wait, put it together?" I suddenly said, staring hard. "You mean you don't actually remember what happened?"

"And you do?" Libby raised an eyebrow. "C'mon, what did you expect? Everything was pretty much a blur last night, but I woke up naked and in your bed, it wasn't that hard to figure out what had happened. We used protection, right?"

"What–? Yeah, yeah, course we did–" I started, wondering how the hell this conversation had taken such a turn for the crazy.

"Wonderful, that's all I need to know, then!" Libby said, brightly. She probably caught the look on my face, however, as she let her hands fall to her knees and said in a much gentler voice, "Look, James, I don't _blame_ you. I can get pretty needy when I'm drunk, I probably didn't give you much of a chance to push me away. It's just rather awkward to carry on as if nothing happened."

"But something _did _happen," I pointed out.

"I _know_," Libby let out a huff. "Look, I get that last night was a horrible mistake, so I can just pretend it never happened if you can?"

Hell _no_! Clearly, she wasn't able to remember how it had _felt_. If she had only drunk as much as I had, would she be saying something different? Perhaps suggesting we go out for coffee at some point? Or if I'd drunk as much as she had, would I be just as willing to forget the whole thing?

It didn't matter. Because I _did _remember and like hell was I going to pretend otherwise.

I kind of wanted her more than anything … that wasn't a big deal, right?

"Libby," I said, not even trying to supress my grin. "Please forgive me when I say that I don't think I can _ever_ pretend it didn't happen."

To say Libby looked taken aback was a bit of an understatement; she looked bloody gobsmacked. "You _what_?" she said.

"You and me," I pointed out. "It's in my head, it became real, and you want me to just _forget about it_?"

"What else did you _think_ would happen?" Libby said then, sounding slightly exasperated. "And, James, don't you even _mention_ the word 'relationship'–"

"Ok, honestly?" I said. "I thought you would at least want to _remember_ what it was like being with me."

"I'm telling you now, I'm glad I don't!"

"Because you're scared of what you might feel if you did."

"I–" Libby gaped at me, slipping slightly off the desk. "No, I – I would _not_–"

"Lib," I grinned in a way that was probably rather frightening; I couldn't help it! "I'm going to make _you_ a promise. I swear that I am going to make you wish you remembered just how brilliant we were together."

Libby had managed to recover slightly and now, she just snorted with laughter at me. "I highly doubt that," she scoffed.

"I'm serious!" I told her. "I am going to make you _beg _for me back."

Libby moved then, sliding off the desk with a slight smirk, all traces of being uncomfortable gone. For a moment, I managed to keep the smug look on my face, but then she walked towards me, or rather _sauntered_. It was enough to make blood rush to rather inappropriate places and I swear my breathing hitched when she leaned in close enough to touch. I had to force my hands to stay in my pockets and tell the wild fire inside me to just _stop_, as she teased,

"_Good luck with that, James_."

And it was pitifully easy for her to push me out of the way, so she could disappear back through the office door.

I only had one thought:

_Oh, it is effing _on_!_

* * *

A _game_ started up between us that day. We had always flirted, Libby and I, but never _that_ seriously. Only now, I'd gotten a taste of what it was like to be with her. That day, I had resolved to make it my mission to be with her once more or, as Fred liked to put it, to 'try and get into her knickers'.

It was more than that. I didn't just want sex. I wanted everything; I wanted _her_. Believe it or not, I _had_ managed to hold down a girlfriend or two over the years, though they might never have become anything serious, so it wasn't a completely unheard of concept coming from me! But when I had made it my resolve to be with her, Libby had apparently made it _her's_ to stay as far away as possible! Where my flirtations had often been met with teasing remarks, I was now suddenly stopped short with withering looks, slaps at hands and Libby's contemptuous voice saying, "_Seriously, James_?"

Our relationship had changed and I was _not _happy about it. Though, it wasn't for the lack of trying.

"… mate, this is getting _beyond_ ridiculous," Fred pointed out, twirling his empty beer bottle around on the table.

"How? _How_ is this ridiculous, Fred?!" I cried, dramatically. My efforts to try and entice Libby had continued for two weeks with absolutely no results and it seemed that my best friend was sick of it. Turning up unannounced at my tiny flat, he'd stormed straight in, taken one look at me wallowing in my underwear on the sofa, then proceeded to throw a shirt from the floor at me and claimed we were going out tonight.

_Out tonight_. Oh, mate, why did you have to say _that_?

So I found myself sitting in a crowded pub late on a Saturday night, trying to get Libby out of my head. We often frequented Muggle bars, since Fred pointed out that it was easier to not forge a connection with a Muggle girl, than a magical one. There was less in common, which was perfect for our fun, if somewhat whoreish, high-life. Fred had already scoped out those he had determined were the clearly single women he thought he might have a shot with, but I was barely looking up from the table top.

"_James_," Fred said, snatching my own drink away from me to make me look up into his brown eyes. "You need to _quit_ this! Seriously, I thought it was bad enough when you _hadn't_ slept with her! Do you _want_ to be tethered to one woman for the rest of your life? Because that's where you're heading, if you're not careful!"

"My brother is basically tethered for life," I shrugged. "He seems pretty happy to me."

Fred rolled his eyes, slamming the bottle down. "That's Al, I think he's the one and only exception here. Your brother just can't _do_ single."

"And I can?"

"You were fine up until now!" Fred cried. Then, he must have noticed the look on my face, because he sighed dramatically and said, "Oh, go on, then. Convince me; why the hell does getting with Libby mean so much to you?"

"I don't know!" I said, but I grinned, thankful for the opportunity to try and explain. For all of his faults, Fred Weasley cared a lot in the end for his mates. He might have a twisted sort of logic, but he always meant well, and I saw it in these brief moments where he would just let me just sit here and ramble about a girl. "She's … she's got a spark to her, y'know? Even before we slept together, I felt it, I knew that she was someone I _had_ to know. She's eccentric, she's hilarious, and _mother of god_, is she hot …" I paused for a moment, trying to express that deep-seated need to be with her. "… at this point, I don't even care if there isn't a relationship. I'll take what I can get. I just want _her_, Fred."

Fred stared at me hard for a long while; in fact, for a moment, I feared I'd somehow broken him and that he wasn't going to say anything ever again! But then his face split into a wide grin and he exclaimed,

"… bull_shit_!"

"Your support is impeccable, thanks, mate."

"No, seriously," Fred told me, laughing. "I get you, she's brilliant and hot and all that, but _mate_! You did it, you _slept _with her, so you don't need to whine anymore! Sure, it might have been amazing but please, time to _move on_!"

I tried to huff at that, but really … why _shouldn't_ I be trying to move on? It's not like she's expressed a desire for anything more; on the contrary, the past two weeks have been filled with nothing but cold rejection. There was only so much a bloke could take! I mean, I'd never really considered myself an _emotional_ sort of bloke, but I'd spent a lot more of the past two weeks than I usually did _wallowing_ (which normally included bad P.V. soap operas and ice cream of some kind).

I hesitated saying any of this, lest I come off as a bit of a girl, but that was when Fred said,

"I don't get why you're still moping! I mean, honestly? I don't know why you're not _angry_!" I narrowed my eyes as he reached over to start twirling his empty drink around on the table top again. "I mean, I reckon if _anything_, she's been a bit of a bitch to you."

"_What_?" My instant reaction to that statement was to simply punch the shit out of him! But, since he was my cousin and my best mate, I decided to reserve judgement and hold it in … barely. "What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"I'm just saying!" Fred said, defensively. "Think about it, this girl flirts with you for years and then, when you actually decide you want more, she turns around and shoots you down? Personally, I don't think that's on."

"But …" I wanted to defend her. This wasn't Libby's fault! I'd never given her any indication over the years that I _ever_ wanted anything more serious! In fact, if I had been in a slightly more sounder and more reasonable mind, I might have actually come right out and said that. As it was, the more I thought about it, the more I just _wanted_ to be angry.

It was easier to be angry, than to face the pain of disappointment.

"You're right!" I said.

"What, seriously?" Fred looked surprised at that.

"_Yes_, seriously!" I cried. "The least she could have done was make it obvious that there was never going to be a chance, but she practically led me on!"

"Exactly, you don't need that, mate," Fred nodded at once.

"Yeah, I can't believe what a bitch she is!"

"She _totally_ doesn't deserve you!"

After agreeing heartedly once more, I downed the last of my drink in an attempt to block the burning in my chest. It didn't really help, but at this point, I was willing to do _anything_ to get rid of it. Libby Who? "Come on then, Fred," I said, wincing against the bitter taste of alcohol in my mouth. "What I need is a good night out!"

"Well, you're in luck!" Fred said, cheerfully. A mischievous grin was coming to his face, now; the grin that was usually followed by a slap from a girl or detention from a teacher. He clapped a hand on my shoulder, turning in the booth of the table we were sitting at to nod towards two girls over at the bar. The sat together, laughing over their wine and I noticed that every now and then, one or both of them would glance in our direction. They were both blonde, gorgeous, and completely _not_ Libby. "Those chicks have been eyeing us up ever since we _arrived_."

"Are you sure?" I pointed out. "Last time you said that, we got thrown out of the club for inappropriate touching."

"I'm _sure_ this time!" Fred said, exasperatedly, punching me on the arm. He caught the eye of one of the girls and he flicked her a grin. "What d'you say? You in?"

Oh, I was _so _in.

* * *

I'm fairly certain the girl told me her name at some point, but honestly, I couldn't for the _life_ of me remember it. The only piece of knowledge about her that stuck in my mind was that she danced for a living, which I had to admit was a little hot. She hadn't exactly been interested in talking much when Fred and I approached her and the other blond girl, who was apparently her older sister, so it hadn't taken long for her to hail a taxi and drag me into it; I hastily told the driver my address and hoped like hell the girl had Muggle money to pay for it.

I've _never_ regretting sleeping with a woman before. I loved my life and the choices I made; sex was sex, there was no need to make a big deal out of it and I never did. I didn't even wish that I'd never slept with Libby. But that night had ended up being a first for a lot of things, since the entire time, I did nothing but compare her to the last woman who had been in my bed: those hands weren't as sizzling as Libby's, those lips weren't as soft as Libby's, that skin wasn't as smooth as Libby's …

I had done it because this girl wasn't an eccentric Cursebreaker and part-time waitress who drove me insane. I did it because I wanted to forget how much it hurt every time she said no. I did it because this girl was a distraction and the moment I found myself breathing hard, sprawled out on my back and staring up at my bedroom ceiling, the girl curled into my side, I realised that I regretted every single second of it.

Libby and I had simply fitted together. When we were connected, it was like the world just melted away and nothing else existed. Dancer girl was just … _there_.

It wasn't right.

"You … _whoa_," the girl said then, grinning into my chest. "That was …"

I reached up and pressed on my eyes with my fingers, hard; it unfortunately wasn't enough to block out what had happened. So intense was my horror at myself, that I barely even noticed the girl's fingertips tracing patterns across my skin. In fact, it didn't even register that she was moving at all until her lips brushed against my neck and suddenly, I was sitting bolt upright, leaping away and causing the girl to yelp slightly as I jolted her.

"Ouch!" she cried, the duvet somewhere around her waist as she glanced up in confusion. "I'm sorry, did I make you jump or something?"

"No, I–" I cut myself off, staring at her as I realised: _I actually did that_. I totally just slept with a random stranger because the girl I _actually_ wanted to be with had rejected me. Pathetic! I was _completely pathetic_. "Oh, shit …" I moaned, covering my face with my hands, resting my elbows on my knees. "Shit, shit, _shit_ …"

"Ah …" That one word was all the girl said. Hastily, she started moving towards the other side of my bed, where her black dress was waiting, tossed haphazardly to the ground with the rest of our clothes. "Don't tell me," she said as she started dressing. "You have a girlfriend, right?"

For a moment, I just stayed like that, my eyes pressed shut as if I could block everything out. The horrible thing was that that was _exactly_ what it felt like; that I was betraying Libby somehow, even though we weren't together, and nor was it likely that we would _ever_ be together!

"I – no, no I don't," I said, quickly. I moved my hands away then, glancing at the floor and noticing my boxers a few feet away; I yanked them on just as the girl finished dressing. Standing up to locate her shoes, she glanced back at me with an odd expression.

"Then why're you acting like you do?" she asked.

"Um … it's a bit complicated …" I admitted. Then, noticing her look around, I added, "Er, I think one of your shoes in under my desk."

"Oh – thanks," she said, crouching down to retrieve said shoe, heeled, purple and sparkly. When she leaned up, she must have noticed my perpetually miserable face, because she sighed and sat back down on the edge of my bed, curling a leg under her to face me. "Oh, go on," she said then, a small smile coming to her still-slightly-red face. "want to explain?"

"We'll be here a while," I pointed out.

"My sister's out doing _god knows what_ with your mate," she answered, shaking her head. "I don't think either of us were planning on going home soon, so I've got all the time in the world! Clearly, you don't have to talk if you don't want to …" she added.

Ok, so _this_ wasn't exactly what I'd imagined happening! Not only was it another first (a woman I'd slept with actually wanted to stick around afterwards? And she wanted to talk about _another girl_?) but I found myself actually _wanting_ to talk about it!

I know. Insane doesn't even cover it.

"There's this girl, right?" I suddenly said, moving over more comfortably to my side of the bed and talking to my duvet. "I work with her, known her for years, and she's _amazing_. Totally amazing, like _can't get her out of my head_ amazing, even though I don't exactly _do_ relationships and love and all that shit …"

The girl was actually starting to smile as she watched me speak. "Something's telling me that that's not the problem," she said.

"She hates me!" I agreed, flinging my arms into the air, dramatically. "Or, well," I quickly added in a slightly more subdued tone. "I'm fairly certain she wants nothing to do with me at least, especially after what happened … We've been flirting for years and a couple of weeks ago, we both got drunk and we … er, kind of slept together," I finished awkwardly, not meeting the girl's eye.

Seriously? You've seen this girl naked, yet you're too embarrassed to look at her?

The girl just watched me for a moment, considering. "Are you in love with her?" she asked.

"No!" I cried at once. "But – no – I don't _know_ …" I grumbled. "It just seems too surreal, you know? Ever since that one night together, she's practically ignored me! Reckons it was a mistake and just wants to pretend it never happened! But _I can't do that_," I tried to express how much I meant that statement into just those four words. I don't know how successful I was, but the girl was looking at me rather intensely, so I hoped the point had gotten across. "and I've tried to forget about her, I really have! Hell, I let myself get talked into going out tonight!"

"And sleeping with me," the girl added.

"Ah, yeah … sorry about that," I said, wincing at how sheepish my words probably sounded. "That's why I freaked out before … even though she's never been my girlfriend, it sort of feels like I've cheated on her …"

The girl was silent for a few moments as she processed this and I just sat there, thankfully not too uncomfortable anymore. Clearly, the girl didn't have too many problems with me using her, or she wouldn't have sat here and listened to me blurting out all my stupid issues, so that was a plus! But I still felt terrible, until the girl spoke again.

"Ok," she said, voice strong. "First of all – you did _not_ cheat on her, so you shouldn't feel badly about that. The reason you feel so guilty is probably because you've betrayed yourself, rather than her. But, if what you say is true, then you haven't hurt her, so you need to stop worrying about it."

Her words made sense, and let's face it, it was easier to place the blame all on myself, so I was quick to accept that statement with a nod. The girl continued, "As for why you did it … you've admitted that you're upset and confused. That's enough to make anyone do something stupid. And you regret it, right?"

"I'm sorry," I said in answer.

The girl waved that off. "Everyone makes mistakes … Jamie, was it?" she asked and I just shrugged, not even bothering to correct her. "And the only person you've hurt in this situation is yourself, so you can either get past that, or choose to let it eat you alive. Your decision."

I snorted at that. "Y'know, I kind of like you," I pointed out.

"You're not so bad yourself," the girl said, giving me a soft smile. "As for what to do next …" she shrugged. "I can't really help you there, seeing as I don't exactly know you. But I will say this: be yourself, and nothing can go wrong!"

At this point, being myself seemed to cause nothing but drama, but I appreciated her words all the same. "Thanks," I said.

"And for what it's worth," the girl added. "I had a good time tonight."

There wasn't really an answer I could give her that wouldn't be either awkward, or a complete lie – what, could I really say 'me, too' or 'you're welcome'? – so instead, I simply asked her, "Do you have money to get home? Sorry, I don't have a car or anything, or I'd offer you a ride …"

"I'll be fine, thanks," the girl said. She stood from my bed and I watched as she bent to collect her other shoe and purse from the floor. She made for the door and just when I thought she would walk out without another word, she turned back and said, "Y'know, Jamie, I hope you end up with her. That girl doesn't know what she's missing."

I grinned. "Thanks."

It wasn't until half an hour later, when I was unable to sleep and therefore making myself a cup of tea in the middle of the night, when I realised that I'd had a complete heart-to-heart with a girl whose name I still didn't even know.

* * *

(_2030_)

"I never saw that girl again, by the way," I added to Rose, who was curled up on my sofa with her feet in my lap. Even all snuggled up with me, she still managed to look disapproving. "Mind, I might have seen her picture as a part of a line up for a new musical a few years back, so perhaps the dancing career really did take off?"

Rose didn't seem to appreciate my joke. Oh, dear. She looked rather pissed off.

"Um … you're not going to kill me, are you?" I asked, hesitantly.

"_Rebound sex_?" was all she said, rolling her eyes. "_Really_, James?"

"Rosie, I _swear_, I regret that night more than anything," I said, quietly. "I shouldn't have slept with that girl. Though she was nice to talk to, she never meant anything more other than shoving it back in Libby's face that I didn't need her. But I was wrong, I did need her. Believe it or not, but even a Stud Muffin like me can feel hurt."

Rose thankfully cracked a grin at that, and I knew that she wasn't _really_ mad at me. "Well," she smirked. "I suppose that's what you get for calling yourself a 'Stud Muffin'!"

"Oi!"

Rose laughed at that for a moment. However, she was quick to quieten down, and she glanced behind her towards the hallway. "I'm sorry," she said, softly. "That wasn't too loud, was it?"

"Nah," I reassured her. "My girl can sleep through anything. But I did listen to the dancer girl's advice in the end. I wasn't going to give up. I don't think I could _ever_ give up on Libby."

"You did though, didn't you?" Rose asked then. "I thought you only went after her for another year or so."

I thought back to all those years ago; remembering pathetically-in-love-but-oh-so-in-denial-about-it- James was kind of embarrassing (and that painfully awkward sort of embarrassing, not just that laugh about it later embarrassing), but the story _was_ an amusing one to tell! "Yeah, you're right," I pointed out. "I only seriously kept it up until near the end of that next year. By that point, I'd had my heart stomped on far too many times to consider keeping at it."

"But you were in _love _with her!" Rose said, exasperatedly.

"You think that was enough?" I laughed. "I'll admit, even after I gave up, a part of me always held on to the idea of Libby, but Rose, it was seriously about another two years before I actually accepted what being in love meant! At that point, 21-year-old me just figured, hey, it's love, it's nothing serious! I barely understood it, so I pushed it away. I did a _lot_ of crazy shit in the meantime."

"Like what?"

"Well," I thought. "The dancer girl was the start. Then, did Libby ever tell you about when she actually changed her hours at work so she wouldn't have to see me anymore? There might have been some stalking, and oh, we can hardly forget the time I blew up Uncle George's shop for her–"

"James," Rose cut in at that point. "I think you're getting a _little_ ahead of yourself."

* * *

A/N: Oh, James. He's a complex soul. Try not to blame him too much for his whacked up thinking. And so starts the awkward stage of their relationship! I'm very glad that you all enjoyed the last chapter, I hope this one was just as good. Please let me know what you think. :)

Until next time -

- Moon. :D


	8. When James went to a funeral

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own James Potter, Astoria Malfoy, funerals, or temporary truces. I do, however, own Libby. :)

* * *

When James Met Libby.

James Sirius Potter has no idea why he's telling the story of how he fell in love. He's not even romantic! Falling in love went against everything he believed in … but it happened. And he invites you to listen if you dare. :James/OC recommended reading with GIR and CGIR NextGen:

* * *

Chapter 7: When James went to a funeral.

Ten months.

That is how long I spent hopelessly pining after Libby. Ten months of chasing, pointless persuasions and aimless flirting. Nothing came of it, nothing at all.

Ten months is also how much time passed between sleeping with Libby, and another event that rattled pretty much all of us to our cores. Even though this particular event didn't have a direct effect on me, I still hated remembering what had happened and witnessing what it did to the people I was close to.

"Rose, I dunno if you'll like this part," I tried to warn her.

"What … ten months later …" Rose was clearly counting in her head. "October, 2027? What happened–? _Oh_."

Her face fell. Her feet were still resting in my lap, and I gave them a squeeze as I answered, "Yeah. It was when Astoria Malfoy passed away. Are you …?"

"I'm ok, James," Rose said at once, giving me a small smile. "I'll admit, it was hard at first. I … I liked her. I still like her, of course! But …"

"I know," I answered. "It hit all of us pretty hard, I think, since it was so sudden."

"It's actually been kind of funny," Rose began, glancing down at the coffee table, which still looked like it would never recover from an explosion in a bridal shop. "I always figured that if Scorpius and I ever got married, Astoria would have loved being a part of the planning, to the point of going all bridezilla and trying to take over! Not that she wasn't a lovely person, but she did always want just the best."

"I would have liked to have seen her take on Mrs Bowmen!" I commented. "That woman was a bloody tyrant when it came to Al and Bea's wedding!"

"Astoria would win, hands down," Rose said at once, and I grinned at her. "But …" she added, smile fading slightly. "We always got on, her and me. When the rest of our parents were squabbling, Astoria was just chatting away, asking me what kind of biscuits were my favourite, or whether I wanted to see her vintage plate collection. She didn't deserve to die so young."

I knew what she meant. I hadn't known Astoria Malfoy myself, but I was close to people who did. The event had triggered a moment between Libby and I that I hadn't expected, so I'm afraid that I will have to risk Rose's well-being for the moment in order to tell it.

"You sure you want to listen?" I asked, finally.

"Of course!" she said. "I know what it did to Scorpius and I … I can only imagine what it did to you and Libby."

* * *

(_2027_)

"James! Did you hear?!" Libby's voice called out the second I walked through the doors of Café Julio. After getting a silent reprimand from Aurora for yelling out over the customers, she was quickly given permission to run up to me.

Um … did the world suddenly end without me realising it? Libby Fletcher was actually acknowledging my presence, without being spoken to first and everything! It was more than she'd given me over the past ten months put together and I found myself grinning at the action, despite the clear sharpness to her voice. Whatever she had to say, it wasn't going to be good, but I would honestly take anything I could get at this point.

"Hear what?" I asked her, letting the grin play across my face without a moment's thought. "How _striking_ you look today?"

"James, shut up, now is _not_ the time for your idiotic quips," Libby snapped at once and my grin faltered slightly. "Astoria Malfoy is dead."

The smile dropped from my face immediately. "Effing hell," I said at once. "You sure?"

"No, I only went round to Rose's place last night and found her sobbing on the sofa for no apparent reason," Libby said, giving a sarcastic roll of her eyes. "YES, I'm bloody sure!"

"Good god …" I muttered. I barely knew Astoria Malfoy, but I knew that she and Rose had gotten along reasonably well. I'd met the woman a few times over the years; a particularly vivid memory I had of her was from roughly five and a half years ago, when Rose and Scorpius first got together. I'd met Astoria the first time their two families ever got together for dinner, and from the way the night had gone, it had also been the _last_ dinner they'd had! There had been screaming, arguing, point-scoring, embarrassment and much questioning of Scorpius' 'honesty'.

But Astoria had always been cool with their relationship, as far as I had been able to tell. I'd run into her a few times over the years, normally at Scorpius' birthday or at the annual ceremony down at Hogwarts for the end of the Second Wizarding War. Even though she was someone basically inconsequential in my life, it was hard to imagine that someone I had once spoken to and liked was just suddenly _dead_.

"Is …" I didn't even know what the first thing to ask should be. "Isn't she only, like, forty-something?"

Libby nodded. "She was forty-five," she said. "According to Rose, she went to bed on the 23rd and died in the night. Come morning, she was gone."

"Shit – do they know what happened to her?"

"No idea," Libby told me. "Because it was so sudden, there has to be a post-mortem at St Mungo's. Rose said she was going to try and get on the team who examines her, so she can get the news to Mr Malfoy and Scorpius faster."

"Damn, they must be going through hell …" I muttered. From what I'd observed, the Malfoy's seemed like a pretty tight bunch; they weren't large, or even that highly respected since the involvement of the family name in the wars, but they were a rich and highly intelligent family. Draco Malfoy had fought hard to break away from the family's Death Eater stereotype and as far as I was concerned, he had succeeded. Scorpius Malfoy, and both of his parents, were _not_ evil in my eyes, nor could they ever be.

"Tell me about it," Libby said, sighing. I noticed that she looked insanely tired, her face all dark eyes and pale skin. "I was up all night with Bea and Al. Rose went to stay with Scorpius at his dad's house and the others wanted a bit of company. We mostly just talked all night."

"Do they know when the funeral is?"

"They can't set a date until the post-mortem is carried out, but it's looking like this time next week," Libby answered.

I took that in, nodding. It just didn't seem _real_, that someone I knew was just _gone_. It seemed incomprehensible to Libby as well, because in that moment, I reached out and took hold of her shoulder, squeezing it lightly, and she _didn't_ throw me off.

"… I know I should be asking how Scorpius is, but honestly, all I really care about is asking how you are," I told her, bluntly.

It was truly a testament of how tired she was, since she didn't punch me, claim I was lying, or tell me to shut up, insisting that she wasn't important. She just sighed and answered,

"I'm tired … and thank you, James."

* * *

The day of the funeral, Scorpius went missing.

"Rosie's trying to find him," Al hissed to me as we stood together in the middle of the crowd. The day was overcast and cloudy and everyone huddled in a sombre black cloud just inside the main entrance to the church where the funeral was to be held. "I just went to the bathroom quickly, and the next second, the bastard's taken off!"

"You can't blame him, mate," I pointed out.

"Still …" Al stared over the crowd. "You can't miss your own mother's funeral."

I understood what my brother was saying, but I wasn't sure if I agreed. I'll admit that several 'what if' thoughts had come into my head, imagining if this was _my_ mother's funeral, and not Scorpius'. It was horrible to even consider, but it happened regardless, and I found my eyes kept searching the crowd, making sure to rest on Ginny Potter's red hair or warm, brown eyes, reassuring myself that she really was ok.

Gah! I hated this, I really did. I hated it when people were miserable and upset, because it made _me_ miserable and upset. Let's face it, I'm a fairly positive bloke, so all this negative energy was really starting to drain me. Then, naturally, I started feeling angry, because getting angry was easier than staying sad, and I started cursing whatever twist of fate it was that had created the genetic disorder in Astoria's brain that had caused her to die in her sleep.

I _hated_ it.

Libby was there, standing with Jo, Trevor and Toby in a group not too far away. Bea was currently with them, talking quietly, while I stood with my brother. Lily was currently … um, _somewhere_ in the world, I honestly forget where the hell she is half the time. Either way, she had sent a letter along as soon as she'd heard, expressing her condolences, but she had opted to stay wherever she was, instead of coming home for the funeral. Honestly, I didn't blame her.

Draco Malfoy was there, but to my surprise, he didn't look grief-stricken. He looked … _abandoned_. Completely and utterly lost, like the only things in the world that had kept him upright had suddenly been yanked away with no warning, causing him to topple over. His face was a hard mask as he stood alone and he spoke to no one, even when someone would come to shake his hand and apologise for his loss.

I hadn't dared approach him.

Al, on the other hand, I was perfectly capable of lending a supportive hand to. Since his girlfriend was with Libby, I had been quick to throw an arm over his shoulders and claim that everything would be ok, just like a big brother ought to.

I know. I'm pretty damn brilliant, sometimes.

"… do you sometimes wonder what it would be like if Mum died instead of Mrs Malfoy?" Al asked, quietly.

"All the time, mate," I answered.

"Thank god," Al sighed, turning to meet my gaze. "It's not just me."

"I think everyone's second guessing things at the moment. D'you really think Rose will be able to find Scorpius?"

"If anyone could find him, she could," Al nodded.

I almost managed to snort at that. "How many years have those two been together now? I started losing count after two or three."

"Five, give or take a few months," Al said and he seemed ok enough for me to pull back my arm and simply stand next to him. With a smile, he continued, "It was only a few months after Bea and me, so it's fairly vivid in my mind."

"Y'know, something like this would break some couples," I mused, staring once more through the crowd, catching the bright red of Mum's hair. "but not our Rosie and Scorpius! I bet you they get through this stronger than ever before."

"Why, James!" Al exclaimed. "You just said something sentimental and meaningful!"

"I know," I said, wrinkling my nose in distaste. "It's not normal, is it?"

"I think the funeral's bringing out the best in you."

"Or the worst."

"Stop it!" Al grinned. "Stop making me want to laugh, we're at a _funeral_, for christ's sake!"

I just sniggered lightly, keeping my voice low; Al did have a _slight_ sliver of truth, however painful it always was to admit that my baby brother was right. "Hey, it's my speciality, right? I don't _do_ this sort of morbid stuff."

"I started to think that the only reason you came is because Libby did," Al said, smirking.

"_What_? You–" I whacked my brother on the shoulder; he yelped, causing several people to look over, including the woman in question. "Bro, shut up! She's barely ten feet away!"

"So?" Al answered, rubbing his shoulder, wincing. "I see you're not denying it!"

"I came to pay my respects to Astoria Malfoy!" I insisted at once. No matter how much I … erm, felt … _something_ … for Libby, Astoria was the woman to think about today.

"Look, it's just the way she complains about you sometimes," Al pointed out. "you've made it pretty clear how you feel about her."

"I don't – I mean – shut up! You don't know anything!" I countered. Geez, seriously? That was the best I could do?

Al seemed to think along the same lines as me. "Bloody hell, James," He smirked once more. "One would think you were still twelve-years-old, with a comeback like that!"

"I'm serious, shut it!" I hissed. "I don't fancy Libby!"

"Oh, you are _not_ pulling that crap with me," Al said at once. "You _do_, and I get it! Libby _is_ pretty damn brilliant."

There really was no way out of this, was there? I was supposed to be attending a funeral, but I've somehow ended up in a heart-to-heart conversation with my brother about girls! Something was incredibly wrong with this scenario.

"Bro," I said at once. "I love you, but there is _no way_ I am talking girl shit with you."

"You must really be into her if you're passing it off as 'girl shit'," Al grinned.

"Gah–! Al, _shut it_!"

"Oh, no way, especially not when you get this riled up over it!" Al continued. "When did you realise you _loooooove_ her?"

"You are _not_ funny."

"Fine. Never mind," Al sighed. Then, with a slow building smirk, he said, "Besides, I don't think you're at _Liberty_ to divulge that information!" He then laughed at his own (ridiculous) joke).

"What the hell is wrong with you? _Seriously_?" I cried.

"Hey! I spent ages coming up with that!" Al insisted. "But all jokes aside … I _do_ know what you're like, James. Are you actually serious about all this?"

Resigned to the worst, I considered. "I wasn't always," I admitted. "But lately … I dunno, I reckon I could make it work. It's not like I'm bloody _proposing_."

"The day you propose will be the day I go skydiving," Al said at once.

"I'd make a similar remark, but honestly, I'm just surprised you haven't done it already."

Al gave me an extremely odd look at that; it was half panicked, half incredibly sheepish. I eyed him in confusion for a moment, before the implications of such a look hit me and I laughed, "Oh, no way! You're gonna–"

"No! Don't say it!" Al hissed at once, with a quick glance back at his girlfriend. "You'll jinx it!"

"I will not! Do I get to be your best man?"

"Piss off, there's no way I'm letting you organise the stag night – shit, seriously, James! Stop talking about it!" Al added exasperatedly, and for a moment, I just let him stew in silence. The crowd was starting to get agitated now, as we were all basically waiting for the son of the deceased to turn up. Eventually, though, Al managed to talk once more, quickly and quietly, "Look, I planned on it, but then _this_ whole disaster happened. Just … lay off, all right? I don't need any digging from you."

"Hey, I mean you all the best, bro!" I said at once. "You know that, right?"

I think sometimes Al forgets that I'm his brother. There's probably never been two people less alike than us, but in the end, I knew that I'd always have my baby bro's back. He might be a stick in the mud sometimes, but he always knew when to reel me in when I was going _completely_ overboard. The fact that he hadn't warned me off Libby was enough to say that he'd somewhat approved.

Too bad the woman in question didn't approve, but as we all know, I'm still working on that.

Al looked up at me at that point, his green eyes almost swimming. Perhaps it was all the pent-up emotion from the heartache and nervousness of (_totally non-existent_) proposal plans, but I could have sworn he was about to _cry_.

"Thanks, mate," he choked.

"Al, seriously, you're a man, aren't you?" I scoffed. "Quit with the sob-fest!"

"Yeah, whatever," Al still had to rub his eyes when he glanced away.

Suddenly, the stirring of the crowd increased, and I turned towards the doors of the church for the source of the agitation. Sure enough, Rose had somehow found Scorpius.

It hit me rather hard that Scorpius Malfoy was an utter mess. He leaned heavily on Rose, his arm around her shoulders, and the slight stagger was fairly noticeable; having seen it many times, I knew that the cause was from a drink or two. His face was an odd mixture of bright red eyes and cheeks, but with the rest of him washed out, his blond hair in disarray. Rose looked like she was barely holding it together and I just wanted to give her a hug, but everyone was starting to move into the church now and I was forced to settle with a comforting smile.

She managed a smile back, so I think I did my job well.

* * *

"Did it suck as much as you thought it would?" Fred asked, leaning on the bar next to me.

"It sucked in the way that I hated that it had to happen in the first place," I answered, pausing to take a gulp of Firewhiskey. "but as far as funerals go, it was beautiful. I mean, I wouldn't know any better, seeing as it's the first I've ever had to attend, but I think Mrs Malfoy would be pleased with it."

"You're braver than me," Fred commented.

I had been thankful that Fred had agreed to come out with me. After the stress of the day and the depressing mood that seemed to have sunk over everyone, all I had wanted to do was just to relax at the Leaky Cauldron with a drink. I had no intentions for it to turn into a roaring night out like Fred and I might have done on any other occasion; I just needed an evening to remind myself that everything was ok. My family was still alive, and Rose would be all right. Even Scorpius and Mr Malfoy would be ok, eventually.

"Look, mate, I really can't talk about it anymore," I admitted, then. "Seriously, just ramble to me about your day, and I'll be fine."

Fred snorted. "Fair enough. It was damn busy! Apparently, every single person in the Law Enforcement knew Astoria Malfoy, so half the department was at the funeral. I don't blame them, but it meant that I was forced to take on double the workload. Thought I'd never make it home!"

"But you clearly made it eventually," I thankfully found myself grinning.

"Yeah, after Sapphire took pity on me around six o'clock," Fred mentioned. "Y'know, Sapphire's pretty decent. I know that we make it a mission to never go out with girls we see on a regular basis, but I'm actually considering making an exception for her!"

"Which girl is Sapphire, again?"

"The blond one, tall, effing _gorgeous_ …?"

"Isn't she your boss?" I snorted.

Fred shrugged. "Mate, c'mon. She's _hot_."

I just shook my head. "You'd never go for it."

"What the hell? Why wouldn't I? You don't know anything!"

"I know _you_," I pointed out. "She's your boss and you _work_ with her, you might fantasise all you like, but you'd never actually go there!"

"Just for that, I'll snog her next time I see her!"

"I bet she'll _love_ that," I snorted, lifting my drink once more.

"Oh, brilliant," Fred muttered then, suddenly glaring at something over my shoulder. "Your _girlfriend_ is here."

Naturally, I choked on my Firewhiskey and, in my panic, I nearly fell off my bar stool as I span around to see Libby Fletcher walk into the Leaky Cauldron. Fred actually laughed, slapping me on the back as Libby and her friends found a table together, the four of them talking quietly, still in their funeral clothes.

"Shit!" I yelped, slamming my drink down, hastily. "What's she doing here?!"

"Why're you flipping out?" Fred asked, raising an eyebrow at my outburst.

"_Because_!" I insisted. "She can't see me like this! I'm all … y'know, depressed and shit!"

"Mate, I think it's actually impossible for you to act depressed," Fred pointed out, but I had tuned him out completely. Jo, Trevor and Toby were all nodding and naturally, Libby was the one to rise and head for the bar.

"God, just keep your head down!" I hissed, grabbing Fred's shoulder and yanking him back around to face the bar. "Maybe if we're lucky, she won't see us–"

"_James_?"

Effing wonderful.

"Libby!" I cried, all abuzz with fake enthusiasm. "What – what a surprise to see you here!"

Clearly catching my tone, she immediately asked, "God, you didn't _follow_ me, did you?"

"What? No! No, believe it or not, I've never actually resorted to stalking you–"

Libby just snorted at my statement. "You'll forgive me if I don't believe you," she said, turning and gesturing to the bartender, ordering drinks for herself and her mates.

I just kept my head down, trying (and failing) not to notice her. Eventually, just as the bartender brought over her drinks, she glanced at me curiously and said, "Erm … James, are you, y'know, all right?"

"What?" I asked. "You – what makes you ask that?"

"I've been standing all but two feet away from you and you haven't tried to flirt with me once," she pointed out.

Damn.

"Look, Libby, I'm fine," I said, hastily. I raised my own drink and tried to give her a grin as I added, "See? I've got good ol' alcohol and my mate, Fred, with me! I'm _absolutely fine_!"

"All right," Libby said, though her voice was incredibly sceptical. I feared that all I'd done was raise her suspicions more, which was far from the reassuring I had been hoping to do. She simply took her tray of drinks with her back to her mates, though not without a last odd glance back at me over her shoulder.

I breathed a sigh of relief, turning back to Fred. However, my best friend was simply staring at me like I'd gone nuts.

"… James, what the hell was that?"

"What the hell was what?" I asked.

"Oh, come _on_!" Fred cried. "Normally, you're all over that girl! What was all that crap you were spouting out about being depressed? Bullshit, if I ever heard it!"

I might have replied indignantly to that, but that was about when someone tapped me on the shoulder. Heart leaping out of my chest, I spun around and, sure enough, Libby was once again standing before me, her drink in one hand, and (amazingly) holding out the other.

"Um …" I muttered.

"You," she said, firmly. "are coming with me. _Now_."

Did I really have any other choice but to agree?

* * *

Libby dragged me outside to the entrance of Diagon Alley. This area of the pub had been expanded over the years, so that the crumbling brick walls now surrounded a small courtyard, with two sets of tables and chairs sitting cluttered together. A cat poking around in one of the dustbins looked up with a _mrow?_ as Libby pulled out a chair and shoved me into it, the chair legs scraping loudly against the cobblestone ground.

"Er, doesn't this normally happen the other way around?" I asked hesitantly, drink still gripped tightly in my hand.

"Precisely my point," Libby said, sitting down in the chair next to me. She looked determined, but there was a tinge of something in her blue eyes; something I might have mistaken as concern, if I had been in any other mind-space. "James … you're not ok."

"I'm fine, Lib!" I said.

"_James_," Libby snapped.

Just that tone of voice was enough to make me spill. She really was one of the most determined women I'd ever met (and that _included_ my headstrong sister). I sighed, "Libby … look, I don't think _any_ of us are ok, today."

"So?"

"So … this isn't, y'know, _me_," I said, shrugging. "Like you said, you know me. I'm a more or less happy person. Today … I'm _not_ happy. I … I didn't want you to see me like this, and not just because of the whole, y'know, wanting to be with you, thing. I care about what you think. I want you to look at me and be able to say, 'That's James, he's a dick, but he's always happy,' I know that today, you wouldn't be able to do that … so, I _may_ have freaked and nearly fell off my stool when I saw you."

Libby was smiling faintly all throughout my (utterly inadequate) explanation, but at that, she let out a snort of laughter. "_Nearly_? I'll bet you face-planted."

"My nose was incredibly close to the floor, I'll admit."

Libby laughed, before talking a gulp of her drink. I copied her for a moment of awkward silence and when she placed the bottle back onto the scrubby table, she said, "James, you know I don't care how you're feeling, right?"

"Ouch," I said at once.

"Oh, come on, I didn't mean it like _that_," Libby said, exasperatedly. "Wait – I mean – oh, never mind. My point is that you can be on the brink of desolation, or bloody ecstatic, and I wouldn't care. I wouldn't look down on you in any way for feeling a bit subdued. Everyone goes through ups and downs. Hell, we went to a bloody funeral today!"

"Yeah, I decided to pass on the reception, though," I pointed out. "Needed to get out of there. I can drink all I like right here."

"We thought along the same lines," Libby commented, glancing briefly at the door to the pub, as if imagining her friends waiting for her back at their table. "Went for a little bit, to support Scorpius, y'know? But after a while, I figured it would be best for all of us to go. And James," she added, giving me a look. "You know that it's _ok_ to be sad, right?"

"What? Of course I know that!" I insisted.

But Libby was shaking her head. "No, I don't think you do," she told me. "I understand, ok? I know you hate feeling like this, I do, too! But I'm ok with it. I don't think you are," I didn't answer her, mainly because I couldn't think of anything to say. No doubt Libby was speaking the absolute truth – smartest woman I know (yes, including Rose) – but I still didn't really want to acknowledge her words. Eventually, Libby just continued, "James, like I said, _everyone_ feels sad sometimes. It's _ok_. No one is going to look down on you for it, least of all me."

"But it's not who I am."

"Ok, granted, it was a little strange seeing you at the funeral without a smile on your face," Libby pointed out. "but I expected it. And on any other day, _I would understand_. I wouldn't _like_ it, but I would understand, because that's life and that's what happens. I think it's utterly impossible for _any_ person to be constantly happy, all the time! And you don't have to _prove_ who you are. Not to anyone, and not to me."

Her words made sense. Of course they did. They always would. I'd never actually considered it before, but I realised that she was right; I never did accept being upset that well. Hence the reason I often turned to anger instead. But maybe it was time to start listening to her.

If anyone knew what she was talking about, it was Libby Fletcher.

There was moment of silence as Libby's words hung in the air. We both took another drink before eventually, I muttered,

"Um, thanks. Seriously."

"It's fine," she answered.

I hoped for a change in the subject , so I then decided to ask her, "How _is_ Scorpius?"

Libby shrugged. "About as good as you'd expect," she said. "Shaken. Angry. Upset. I think he hardly knows what to do with himself. He and his dad are barely speaking, which doesn't help, but hey, she's been dead a week. Got to give the men credit that they're still functioning."

"S'pose he's got Rosie, in the end," I added.

"She's been a godsend, I swear," Libby agreed. "I always knew your cousin was an amazing woman, but today, I think I really saw how much. _Never_ left his side, even for a second."

I grinned. "Yeah, she's pretty incredible. Though, naturally, you'll have to excuse me when I say that she's not my favourite woman in the world."

Libby just gave me a shrewd look that didn't quite meet her eye. "I'm unsure whether to take that as an innocent reference to Rose being related to you, and therefore off the market, or as yet another wayward compliment towards me."

"Oh, go on," I managed a grin. "You know which it was."

"I am not even going to _bother_ tell you that it's never going to happen," Libby rolled her eyes. "Besides, tonight … I don't really mind, either way."

"What, seriously?"

"We've been through enough drama for one week," Libby said. "I'll give you the night off."

I just stared at her, quite unbelieving that this was all happening. Then, I decided to ask her, "Has this entire conversation seemed … odd, to you?"

Libby snorted. "Yeah. I know what you mean."

"Exactly!" I said. "This is all so different! Normally whenever we speak, we're either flirty or, in the case of most recently, snappy," Libby scoffed at that. "but _this_ has been …"

"Kind of like a middle ground?" she suggested.

I nodded. "It's like I don't really know what's appropriate to say."

"I think it just shows that when a crisis happens, we're able to put aside all the drama for one day," Libby mused. "and let's face it, it would be rather inappropriate to go back to all the flirting, considering the circumstances."

"I'm glad that we haven't spent the entire day with you yelling at me, either," I pointed out.

"Oh, come on, I don't _yell_ at you–" Libby began.

"Are you _kidding_?" I said, a grin coming to my face. "You once threatened to punch me in the mouth if I didn't back the hell off!"

"Ok, so maybe I was a little tired that day."

"You know, you'll have to admit it at some point," I smirked. "A tiny part of you likes my attention."

That was when Libby smiled at me. It wasn't a huge smile, with teeth and dimples and laughter, but it still said volumes. Even though the next thing she said was only, "Finish that drink, and I'll buy you another," I knew exactly what her answer was. She didn't have to say it.

_Yes. A tiny part. But mention it ever again and I really WILL punch you in the mouth._

* * *

(_2030_)

"… are you ok?" I asked, softly.

Rose had been deathly quiet the entire story. I squeezed her ankles once more and she sat up slightly, giving me a small smile. "I'm fine," she said at once. "Just … remembering."

"You know, I was totally right," I grinned, then. "You and Scorpius _did_ get through that stronger than ever!"

"James, you _do_ remember that we quite spectacularly broke up just over a year later, right?"

"Oh, _that_ doesn't count," I said, waving a hand dismissively. "You got back together in the end, and now look at you! You're getting _married_!"

"Well," Rose said. "I think we deserve to after all the shit that went down."

"I still blame Scorpius for most of it."

"Oh, I do, too!" Rose laughed. Then, she settled down once more into the corner of the sofa and added, "Thanks, by the way. For saying that I was pretty incredible."

"You _are_ pretty incredible," I pointed out. "Need I only remind you of what you did for me a week ago?"

"Oh, you're right," Rose teased. "I'm just brilliant!"

We both laughed, and I was glad that we could. While I hadn't been struck with the same type of grief as Scorpius and Draco Malfoy had, I think I'd been hit in my own way. I'd been forced to look at the way I acted and thought about the world, but hey, I got to spend that entire night with Libby! In the end we had ignored both Fred and her mates and just stayed out in the courtyard, talking until about one in the morning. Fred had been a bit pissed off, but when wasn't he?

Though, naturally, the next day, things automatically went back to the way it was before, like nothing had ever happened.

So … what _did _happen next?

Let's just say things got a little bit _drastic_!

* * *

A/N: I know, it's late. I'm so terribly sorry and there's no excuse, apart from Real Life. I also have uni assignments due, so the next chapter may be late as well. Again, I'm sorry! I hope you all understand. :)

I always knew I wanted to do something surrounding Astoria's death (the scene where Rose finds Scorpius is in chapter 4: 'The Fourth One' of _Conclusion to Getting it Right_) and I had a lot of fun speculating what effect it would have on James and Libby.

I hope you all liked it! Please, let me know what you think. :)

Until next time -

- Moon. :D


	9. When James stalked Libby

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own James Potter, Lily Potter, stalking, Rosie O'Gradys or fights. I do, however, own Libby. :)

* * *

When James Met Libby.

James Sirius Potter has no idea why he's telling the story of how he fell in love. He's not even romantic! Falling in love went against everything he believed in … but it happened. And he invites you to listen if you dare. :James/OC recommended reading with GIR and CGIR NextGen:

* * *

Chapter 8: When James stalked Libby.

Ok, in hindsight, I _probably_ shouldn't have called this part of the story 'when James stalked Libby'. It makes me sound like a deranged psychopath! But, quite literally … that's sort of what happened.

You'd think after Dickhead Nathan I would have had my fair share of stalking; apparently, it wasn't over yet!

And, naturally, Rose was looking almost as judgemental as I imagine you, my non-existent audience, is.

"_James_," she said.

"I didn't mean to!"

"I didn't accuse you of doing anything!"

"You said, _James_," I mimicked her tone, which made Rose snort and roll her eyes. "That's your way of saying _I'm so disappointed in you_, in one word."

"Well," Rose shrugged, leaning against the arm of the sofa. "Can you explain _why_ you ended up stalking Libby? Oh!" she quickly added. "and do you have a blanket I could borrow?"

"What the hell? _Get me a blanket, James! Help me write my wedding vows, James! Let me crash on your sofa while I procrastinate, James!_ Y'know," I pointed out as I (however reluctantly) heaved myself up off the sofa. "anyone else would think that _you_ were my girlfriend, Rosie."

"Aw, go on," Rose said. "Admit it: if we weren't related, you'd totally go for me!"

I winced as I reached the hallway wardrobe, tugging out one of Libby's fluffy blankets; honestly, those things really were to die for, and half the time, I didn't even care that most of them were covered in polka dots or pictures of sheep!

"Thanks _so much_ for that delightful image, dear cousin," I pointed out, throwing the blanket over Rose's head once I reached the sofa once more.

"Face it. I'm hot."

"Haven't we gone a little off topic?"

"I thought that was your forte?" Rose grinned. "And, forgive me if I'm wrong, but I got the impression that you didn't _want_ to tell this part of the story?"

I stayed silent.

Oh, brilliant. Rose's grin simply grew with every moment I didn't say anything. "Ha! You LIKE this!" she teased.

"What? No, I don't!"

"Yes, you do! You're totally having a ball with it!" Rose laughed. "Hell, when I first came over, you were sitting here, talking to yourself! You've loved having someone to ramble to because you just can't help but talk about Libby!"

"Y'know, if this were four years ago, you would have said that I just liked talking about myself," I pointed out. "Only _you_ could turn that into something romantic!"

In answer, Rose just snorted and pointed to the mess on the coffee table. "_Wedding_," was all she said in answer.

Ok, I'll admit, I'm enjoying this a little. But, c'mon, that's because Libby's brilliant, right? Who WOULDN'T want to talk about her all night?

"Fine," I finally caved. "The stalking incident was all my sister's fault."

"LL?" Rose raised an eyebrow as she stood to wrap herself in the blanket. "How on earth did _she_ come into this story? I always thought she was more in tune with my insane dramas, than yours."

"Hey," I pointed out. "My life can get pretty damn insane, it's not just you! I told you the next thing I did was something drastic, right? And Lily Potter is always up for a good drama, no matter whose it is!"

My jet-setting baby sister had been travelling the world at this point in the story. Having spent a majority of the year chasing and getting nowhere, I was practically on the verge of giving up on Libby. That was about when Lily had miraculously come home for Grandma Molly's birthday! But this part of the story doesn't start at the party, when I had gotten to hug my sister for the first time in years.

No, this part starts – where else? – at Café Julio.

* * *

(_2027_)

"Morning, Taylor!" I said brightly, nudging the young waitress with my elbow as I joined her out front. "How is your beautiful face on this fine day?"

"It is fine, thank you," Taylor grinned. The café was oddly rather empty this morning and as a result, Taylor was absently wiping the bench next to her with one hand, while playing with the ends of her blond ponytail with the other. "Thank _god_ you're here, though."

"Because I'm just a bright, electric spark to you day?" I asked.

Taylor snorted. "I don't know about electric, but I think it's safe to say that you always manage to liven things up," she answered. "Today is so _dead_! I don't know what's going on, but we've cleaned practically everything and there's _nothing_ left to do!"

"I'll say!" called another waitress, Maggie, out in the lobby. "She's been cleaning the same spot on the counter for the last half an hour!"

I laughed as Taylor muttered, "Oh," and dropped the cloth she was using back in its bucket under the counter. Luckily Aurora was out today and the manager we had for this shift was a bloke that just shut himself up in the office all day, so we didn't have to worry at all about getting into trouble.

According to the roster, I was supposed to be serving the deli, but naturally, with nothing to do, my mind completely wandered. Taylor and Maggie were having a loud conversation across the entire café, but I only tuned in for about a second, before realising that the main topic of conversation was nail polish. I started eyeing the café doors, waiting for what had to be my favourite moment of every day. It wasn't often that I was here before her!

However, twenty minutes passed … then, half an hour … and she was _still_ just as absent as the customers in the café.

"… hey, Taylor?" I asked eventually, turning away from where I had been balancing napkin holders in a pyramid on the counter. "D'you know where Libby is? She's nearly forty minutes late!"

"Oh, she changed her hours," Taylor said, eyeing the large mug she had placed on the counter next to the register; in her boredom, she had been aiming salt and pepper packets at it, trying to score as many mug-points as possible.

I paused for a moment, staring at her in confusion. "What d'you mean, _changed her hours_?"

Taylor just shrugged, throwing another salt packet. "She has another job, doesn't she?" she asked. "Working at a bank, I think she said, maybe she needed to work around a change there?"

"So she hasn't cut back hours, she's actually _changed_ them?" I asked.

"Yeah, she works evenings now," Taylor answered.

She … wasn't working day-side anymore? _I didn't get to see her_? I loved this job, I honestly did, and I took it originally because I needed it. But if I was telling the truth, I could have quit years ago. I loved working here, the atmosphere, the people, the customers, the coffee, but at the end of the day, my favourite part of this job was that I got to spend it alongside Libby Fletcher.

_Why_ …

The crestfallen look on my face must have been pretty damn obvious – certainly, I didn't do anything to hide it – because both girls gave me pretty sympathetic expressions.

"Don't worry, James, it's not the end of the world!" Maggie tried to reason, approaching the counter from the customer side. "Right?"

"Oh, come on, Maggie!" Taylor hissed. "You remember what the two of them were like!"

"Yeah, _were_," Maggie pointed out. Then, she winced and added, "Oh, god, sorry James …"

"It's fine," I waved off. I was still rather in shock at the thought of not working with Libby any more; hell, I didn't even know where she lived! I had no way of contacting her and even if I could, I knew that she wouldn't want me to. How could she, with the way I'd acted towards her? Chasing after her, not giving her a choice, pushing her comfort …

"Hey," Taylor said then, quietly. "Feel free to tell me to piss off … but can I ask, what … what actually happened between you two? I just mean, you were so tight for ages, and then suddenly, it was all awkward …"

I sighed. "In the end, it was simple," I told both girls. "Things got screwed up. When don't they?"

"Amen to that," Maggie agreed.

* * *

To say that that shift was the most _boring_ I'd ever had at Café Julio was _not_ an understatement! I never realised how much passion and drive I had for the job when Libby was there; sure, there had been days in the past when she had been sick or taken the day off, but I always knew she was coming back; this time, I didn't know when on earth I'd see her again.

It was too much to hope for that she would be working that evening and I would get to see her as our shifts crossed over … but even if she did come in, what could I say? She clearly hated me at this point! I was fighting a losing battle and I knew it, but for some stupid reason, I was still clinging to hope. That one night together was ten months ago, but the memory was seared into my brain as though it was yesterday.

I could still feel her.

I could still taste her …

_Shake it off, James_! I forced myself to think as my shift finally ended around five that evening. _Thinking about her is going to get you nowhere! Just forget it! _

As I slammed into one of the two changing rooms in the break room, I figured that it was easier said than done.

I was just hopping on one foot, changing into my jeans, when suddenly, a voice made my heart lurch. I snapped upright in shock and nearly fell over with a _crash_.

"Hey, Taylor! You just leaving?"

"Home sweet home!" Taylor answered, cheerfully. "You've got a boring night ahead of you, we had practically zero customers today."

"Oh, brilliant – at least that means I'll get off early," It was Libby's voice – _of course_ it was Libby's voice – standing all but five feet away! The only thing separating us was a flimsy changing room door.

… and I was half naked.

Oh, lord. This really wasn't doing wonders for my mental health.

"Big plans tonight?" Taylor teased her, the slight bump telling me that she was leaning against the lockers, as Libby clearly opened one.

"Not really," Libby replied. "Just me and Jo are going out. I was going to ask some of my other mates to come with us, but the mother of a good friend of mine just passed away recently, so everything's a bit all over the place at the moment."

"Oh, that sucks," Taylor said as I frantically jumped, finally zipping up my jeans. "Did … did you know her?"

"Not personally, no," Libby said with a sigh. "But she died rather suddenly. The funeral was only last week. Her son is a really good friend of mine and he's a wreck, as you can imagine. I didn't really want to hit town, but I decided that I really needed a break!"

"Fair enough," Taylor answered as I hastily threw on my t-shirt. "Ooh, there's this really good Irish pub that's just opened in Kilburn! I think my mates and I have been there every weekend since the place opened!"

"_You_?" Libby laughed. "Taylor, aren't you like, only seventeen or something?"

"Hey! I might've still been at high school when I started working here, but I'm nineteen now!" Taylor pointed out.

The girls' conversation then branched off into old memories of having worked at the café for three years together now. I finished dressing about halfway through the nostalgia, but I deliberated for what seemed like an age on whether to actually come out now, or wait until they'd both left.

Libby clearly didn't care at all what I thought. I mean, I _knew_ that, but for some reason, I'd always assumed that there was a small part of her that still thought I was all right. It had certainly seemed that way during our (bloody spectacular) evening of drinking and talking at _The Leaky Cauldron_. But she had mentioned the funeral with absolutely no mention of me at all.

She ignores me for almost a year and the one night she actually lets her guard down, she pretends never happen! Why the hell was I surprised?

I only left the changing room when Libby and Taylor's voices had long since disappeared.

* * *

If there is one person who knows how to throw a party, it is my grandma Molly.

The woman is turning seventy-something, yet she still goes all out! The Burrow was decked with plates and platters of 'nibbles', including mini savouries, frilly sandwiches, and pieces of chocolate cake. Wine was flowing freely between glasses and pretty much _every_ Weasley and Potter in the universe was packed into the one house.

You've never lived until you've attended a Weasley Event. We are one hell of a family!

It was common practice these days among the cousins to take bets on various aspects of whatever event was going down; the odds of a screaming match, the chances of someone revealing some life-changing news, whether Fred and I will once again blow something up, things of the like. And for the record, _no_, Fred and I hadn't blown up anything for a while! Not since the exploding Christmas tree incident of 2024.

(It was an accident, honest!).

Grandma Molly's birthday was actually on the 30th October, almost a week ago, but this year, it had been the same day at the funeral. Since a majority of the family was attending, the celebrations for our dear grandmother's birthday had been shifted back a week,

("Disgraceful!" Grandma Molly had cried. "In my day, plans were upheld, never mind people popping off like clogs! I'm not getting any younger!"

"_Mum_, Astoria Malfoy was a good person who died tragically young," my uncle Bill had tried to reason.

"Yes, well," Grandma Molly had sniffed. "It _is_ all very sad, I suppose. And I've no doubt that you miscreants will all just go anyway, so we _might as well_ change the date of my party!"

"I knew you'd understand," Uncle Bill had shot an exasperated look to several of his siblings, who were lurking in the doorway to the kitchen at the time. "Thanks, Mum."

"Oh, Bill! Don't thank me; I've been your mother for 57 years, if you start thanking me now, you'll never be able to stop!"

Uncle Bill had sighed. "Yes, Mum.")

Oh, yes. My grandmother was a force to be reckoned with! Everyone swarmed throughout the lounge and kitchen, the two rooms of the house that had become de facto for entertaining people. Uncle Bill and Uncle Charlie were talking non-stop about work, while Auntie Fleur doted on her first grandchild, Max, who was about two or three or something (I don't bloody know the kid's age; he's small and hyperactive, that's all you need to know). Teddy and Victoire, the parents of said kid, seemed to be arguing with Dominique about something, who – yes – I believe had brought yet another male 'friend' with her, who was typically handsome and, of course, about half Dom's age. Molly was eyeing their argument with interest, chatting loudly with her scary biker boyfriend. Molly's younger sister, Lucy, was sitting at the foot of the stairs, around the corner and away from the madness, next to her husband of about a year. The two of them were both _reading_. How the hell those two don't go insane, I'll never know, but for some reason, they seemed to _like_ just sitting and staring at a book!

I called out to Fred, who was in the middle of cheering on Dom's side of the argument, and he quickly darted over, swinging around Uncle Percy (who was droning on and on about something dreadfully boring, no doubt) and managing to get in a dig at Hugo on his way. For some reason, Rose's brother had brought his girlfriend, Caroline, with him; considering that the last time the woman had entered the house was over a year ago, and Grandma Molly had nearly made her _cry_, I figured that Caroline had to be just as insane as the rest of us!

"Vic's getting into yet another life lecture, it's brilliant!" Fred laughed once he reached me, slapping a hand on my shoulder. "Dom's about to rip her head off!"

"Damn, I knew I should've made Dom's perchance for violence as my bet!" I complained.

"Mate, are you all right?" Fred suddenly asked me.

I stared up at him, trying not to panic. Holy shit, the bloke could see right through me, couldn't he? I always figured that it was easy to blend into a Weasley Event! But, I suppose, if there was one person who could always tell when something about me was off, it was Fred. And people call him highly distractible!

Please.

Oh, wait … that's not good …

"What?" I scoffed. "Fred, I'm fine!"

"I dunno, you look a bit pissed off …"

"Yeah, well, I might _actually_ get pissed off if you keep going on!"

Fred's eyes widened in amusement. "Whoa!" he grinned. "Whoever shat in your coffee deserves a kick up the backside!"

"Are you offering?"

"That would mean you telling me what's happened," Fred pointed out. "and I have no interest in listening to you whining. Instead, come make fun of Roxie's new _boyfraaaan_ with me!"

"'Boyfran'?" I shook my head in bemusement, as he grabbed my arm and dragged me through the crowd of family members.

"Because he's just _so damn cuuuuute_!" Fred mimicked his sister.

Oh, Roxanne. Pretty much _every_ man Fred's younger sister met was 'cute' (with a million 'u's added). She was the most peppy, happy-go-lucky girl I think you could ever meet and as a result, she seemed to attract all the peppy, happy-go-lucky blokes in the bloody UK! (Minus her 'Goth' phase, but _please_, let's not get into that).

Roxanne and her new man were canoodling near the fireplace, which Fred barrelled straight towards, (yelling out, "Oi! Sis! Gonna introduce me to this strapping young gentleman?!"). However, before I could reach them, another loud and familiar voice suddenly called out my name.

"JAMES!" Lily screamed, about two seconds before slamming straight into me.

"LILY!" I cried, hugging her back, spinning her around for good measure. "Baby sis, I didn't even know you were back!"

"Grandma Molly convinced me!" Lily laughed, pulling back so she could show me her beautiful smile. "Naturally, she was buzzing with questions about what it was like 'abroad'."

"Where were you?" I asked.

"USA, baby!" Lily grinned. "I'm being a typical tourist, since you can't really go to Florida without hitting up all the theme parks. Apparently, they've even got one park that has a magic theme! There's no way they pull it off."

I just laughed and agreed with her. My baby sister, I'll admit, was almost as stubborn-willed as her grandmother could be at times. Vivacious and determined, Lily was no longer the little girl who first dropped out of school and jetted off to Brazil; she was free-spirited and didn't believe in being tied down to _anything_. She did whatever the hell she wanted and I'll admit, I was a bit of a sucker for my baby sister.

I think the entire universe is a sucker for Lily Potter, so we all didn't really stand a chance, did we?

"Has Mum tried to convince you to stay, yet?" I asked her.

"Nah, but it's only a matter of time," Lily rolled her eyes. "You know what she's like. _Oh, Lily! When are you going to stop traipsing the world like an aimless, unemployed woman? You're going to end up murdered in a ditch_!"

"Like we haven't heard _that_ enough times," I grinned.

"I swear, the day our mother actually _wants_ me to travel, will be when I come back home," Lily agreed. "But enough about me! It's all I talk about whenever I'm back in England. Tell me about _your_ exciting life!"

"Oh, it's nothing that exciting," I shrugged. "I work. I serve coffee. I hang out with Fred. I went to a funeral last week?"

"Oh, yeah," Lily said then, her voice a bit subdued at the thought. "How was it?"

"Awful, but good, if you know what I mean?"

Lily nodded. "Bet Grandma threw a fit when she realised the funeral was the same day as her birthday!"

"I think she was more pissed off at the fact that it threw out all of her careful plans," I laughed. "You know what Grandma's like."

Lily laughed with me for a bit, and we wandered through our family to reach the plate of mini-quiches, which Uncle Ron was currently devouring by himself. "Help yourself," he told us through a mouthful of spinach and cheese. "Just – er – don't tell Hermione where I am, will you?"

"Uncle Ron, you're standing in the corner," Lily snorted. "I'm sorry, but I don't think the lamp is going to hide you very well."

"All the same – AH!" he suddenly yelped as, sure enough, Aunt Hermione came storming back into the lounge, her piercing eyes sweeping the crowd of family members. Uncle Ron shoved the plate into Lily's arms. He squeaked, "I was never here!" before suddenly ducking down and hiding behind the nearest sofa.

Lily and I stared.

"We really do have an insane family, don't we?" Lily asked.

"I dunno, none of us are in an asylum at least, so I think that counts for something!" I commented, lightly.

Lily looked up at me then and I shifted slightly on my feet. To avoid her gaze, I took another one of the quiches. Lily Potter was probably one of the most observant people I knew and if there was anyone who would be able to tell what I was feeling just by looking at me, it would be her. "Are … are you all right?" she asked, then.

"Oh, for god's sake," I huffed. "Not you, too! I'm _fine_!"

"Clearly, you are _not_," Lily smirked, putting the plate of quiches down onto the coffee table a few feet away. "Who else agrees with me?"

"Fred," I grumbled.

"Well, he's busy teasing his sister, so looks like it's just you and me!" Lily said, cheerfully. "C'mon! I know what you're like, you hate it when something's bothering you, so just get it off your chest! That way, you can go back to being painfully-annoying-James, again."

Ok, I love my sister, I really do! But if there was one thing I couldn't talk to her about, it was _that_. You know. Girls. Love. All that shit that I don't do and Lily doesn't either, thanks to some dickhead bastard who broke her heart back when she was still at school. Just hearing about her exploits with blokes was enough to make me want to simultaneously throw up, and punch whoever bloke it was in the face! I'm pretty damn sure she felt the same way.

So I'm not telling her.

Nuh-uh.

Nope.

"Do you remember Libby Fletcher?"

I winced as soon as the words came flying out of my mouth. Lily was clearly surprised, an eyebrow rising all the way to her red fringe, but thankfully, she didn't say anything else other than, "Sure, I do. Rose's mate, right?"

"Yeah. Um …" I'd somehow started this; might as well finish it, however awkward it might get! "How much do you exactly know about her … and, uh, me?"

Lily suddenly let out a snorting laugh, before clapping a hand over her mouth. "Oh, no!" she cried through her fingers, absolutely failing at stifling her grin. "No, James! You're not hung up about a _girl_, are you?"

"Fine, if you don't want to hear what's bothering me–!"

"No! No!" Lily cried, grabbing my arm when I tried to storm back off into the lounge. She tugged me alongside her, leading me back through the kitchen, where Granddad Arthur was telling some thrilling tale to Max, who was sat on Auntie Fleur's knee.

"… it reared above me, and I thought I was a goner–!" he cried as Max gasped.

But Lily simply opened the back door and led me out into the garden. Being October, it wasn't exactly warm; hell, I don't think it's _ever_ warm in England, apart from a few random days in the middle of summer. But it wasn't pissing it down, nor was the wind lethal, so it was fairly comfortable to lean together against the side of the house.

"So go on," Lily said then, turning her head and practically resting her chin on my shoulder in her enthusiasm. "Tell me the story! Rosie has told me the disgusting stuff already, about how you got off and everything, so–"

"Bloody hell, did she tell _everyone_?" I groaned.

"Oh, don't blame Rosie. She tells me everything anyway," Lily grinned. "Don't try and back out! So what is it, you fancy her? She hate you?"

"To sum it up, yes, that fits rather well," I said, staring down at her. "Baby sis, how exactly did we end up in this conversation?"

"I'm too observant and you wear your emotions all over your bloody face."

"Fine," I rolled my eyes. "Yes, she wants nothing to do with me. Yes, I _might_ kind of like her. But I found out today that she changed her hours at the café we both work at, so we no longer have the same shifts anymore."

"Oh. Really?" Lily said, turning to look out over the darkening garden.

"Yes! It's insane!" I cried. I hadn't really realised how worked up over it I was until this point, but now it was just hitting me that I really would never get to see her again at this point. "I mean, am I really that damn disgusting to actually warrant _changing your hours_, so you don't have to see me anymore?"

"Whoa, hold on," Lily said. "How d'you know that _you're_ the reason she changed?"

"Why else would she?!"

"For some perfectly legitimate reason?" Lily pointed out. "James, I think you're going just a little bit spare …"

"Oh, I know I am!" I agreed. "I just don't know what the hell goes through that woman's head! One day, she's flirting with me. Then, after one _amazing_ night together, she suddenly can't stand me! After _months_ of turning me down, a week ago, she let me back in again, even if it was just for one evening. The day of the funeral," I added at Lily's questioning look. "Both went out for a drink, ended up talking most of the night. I thought she was finally letting the walls come down, y'know? I thought we were gonna go somewhere … then the next day, _nothing_. It was like we were back at square _freaking_ one. Who the hell does that?!"

"James, if I might interject," Lily said, then. "It sounds to me that you need an explanation."

"Oh, I need an explanation, all right!" I cried. "I need …"

_Her. Just her. _

"Have you, I don't know, _tried_ talking to her?" Lily smirked.

"LL, that's all I basically do these days," I admitted. "She wants nothing of it."

My sister frowned then. "Ok. Well, from what I've heard … if you want to get through this, no matter what result you get at the end of the day, then what you need is closure. You have to _talk_ to her, and if she really did change her hours to avoid you, then you deserve to know. Plus, it sounds like everything has been topsy-turvy lately. I won't say she owes you an explanation, but I think that you _both_ need to talk. That way, you can find out once and for all if nothing really is going to come of this and you can both move on with your lives. Understand me?"

"But …" Ok. What she said made sense, I get that. But what if I didn't _want_ to move on? What if I wanted to just stay feeling like this forever?!

_Holy shit_.

I just … I just said '_forever_' didn't I?

"I need to talk to her," I said at once.

Lily grinned. "As I suspected. The great and powerful LL is always right! So where do we find her?"

"Come again?"

"_Where do we find her_?" Lily reiterated, her voice purposefully slow and loud. "Geez, didn't think it was _that_ hard …"

"Um … yeah, we might have a problem there," I pointed out. "I don't know where she lives, or any other place she might go, apart from the café."

"Then we start there!"

"Lily!" I cried, when, for reasons unfathomable, she started striding forward into the garden, aiming for what was clearly the Apparation point beyond the back fence. "What're you – we can't try and find her _now_!"

"Why not?" she said, turning back. "You're upset, I'm upset because you're upset, and Grandma will totally kill us if either one of us cries on her birthday."

"Her birthday was a week ago."

"You think she cares?" Lily laughed. "James! Come on, I know you won't do this without me pressuring you, so just do it before you talk yourself out of it!"

"But we can't – she'll still be at work!" I cried. "And she said she was going out tonight, we can't just wait until she clocks out and follow her!"

Lily stayed silent. Oh, no.

"_No_ – LL – I've done the stalking thing before!" I said, exasperatedly. "I'm _not_ going there again–"

"Whoa, you've _already_ stalked her?" Lily suddenly cut in, eyes wide. "When the heck did this happen?"

"Libby and I were the ones doing the stalking, we chased her ex down, so she could dump him in front of the other girl he was seeing," I explained in a huff. "But for god's sake, I'm not doing it to _her_! That's just … INSANE!"

"More insane than how you've already been?"

I hesitated and my sister could clearly still feel it. Sighing, she strode forward, taking one of my hands tightly. "C'mon, James," she said, quietly. "I _hate_ seeing you like this. You might be putting on a brave face, 'cause that's what you do, but I know you hate this as well."

"I don't want to think about what she might say," I muttered.

"I know," Lily said. "but James, I'll ask you this … is it worth knowing?"

* * *

My little sister and I were currently sneaking down Kilburn High Road, trying not to be spotted by Libby and Jo.

The answer is _no_, I don't know where my life is headed.

"I can't believe you've actually convinced me to _stalk_ Libby," I grumbled. "I thought only I did that!"

"Nonsense!" Lily cried. "We aren't stalking, we're _looking_–"

"When the person doesn't know we're looking, I'm fairly certain that's when it's classified as _stalking_–"

"Hey, we haven't been slapped with a restraining order yet," Lily pointed out. "Now, come on, before we lose them!"

We'd waited outside Café Julio like the creepy weirdoes that we were until the sun started to set. Then, Jo had met Libby at the café just as she finished her shift. The two of them had headed off straight away and as Lily and I quickly followed them, I knew that I was definitely going to hell for this. No one from our family would even notice we had disappeared from the party, but Grandma Molly was _so_ going to kill us for running out on her birthday, and I was starting to think that she was right to! Kilburn High Road was pretty packed with people heading home, or rushing to and from the shops before they closed. We had to push our way through the people just to keep the back of Libby's head in our sights, currently walking next to Jo with their arms linked. London's night-life was coming alive, lights twinkling in the windows. I just shook my head, unbelieving that it had somehow come to this.

I'm never trusting my sister _ever_ again, you hear me?

Libby and Jo led us all the way to the Irish pub that Taylor had mentioned, Rosie O'Grady's. It stood on a corner, a second-floor balcony overlooking the street and looking typically Irish. From the sounds of the music and yelling coming from inside, the pub was just gearing up for an epic night out. Libby and Jo disappeared inside and Lily and I simply stayed out on the street, staring at the doors.

Well, _I_ stared. Lily was dancing up and down impatiently on the balls of her feet.

"Come on!" she cried. "What are you waiting for? Go in there and get some answers!"

"You know, I think you are being far too cheerful about all this for a girl who is going to die," I pointed out.

"Die?" Lily folded her arms as she looked at me.

"Well, naturally, Grandma's probably cursed us half to death by now for running out on her," I pointed out.

"Oh, hush," Lily said, rolling her eyes. "Our dear grandmother has at least another thirty years of birthdays to come, we can make it up to her then."

"If she randomly dies tomorrow, you'd wish you'd sung a different tune."

"I'm not letting you out of this," Lily was quick to mention, since I was indeed half-heartedly trying to turn around and bolt back the way we'd come. "Just get in there, would you? Or at least stop pacing, you're making me antsy."

"_You're_ antsy?" I said in disbelief, halting mid-step to stare down at her. "LL, I don't think you quite grasp what's going on here–"

"Look, at the rate you're carrying on, she'll be half-drunk before you even get up the nerve to go in there," Lily said. To my horror, she grabbed my arm and absolutely no amount of shaking or cursing could throw her off. She practically _frog-marched_ me towards the pub.

I felt so far from ready to do anything Lily was hoping for. I've handled a _lot_ of rejection from Libby, but if everything I had suspected was true … I wasn't entirely sure if I could bounce back from it. And I'm a bouncy person!

I _liked_ being in this weird relationship. I didn't want it to just _end_.

But, after thundering through the brown, polished entrance way and halting just at the entrance to the bar, I spotted Libby across the pub. She was smack in the middle, she and Jo talking excitedly and helping each other out one another's coats. They were surrounded by joyful patrons, nursing their Guinness's and occasionally screaming at a P.V. screen which was apparently showing a football game of some sort. The pub was large, but cosy; there was enough space to not feel crowded, but it still gave off a sense of being warm and friendly.

Watching Libby, I suddenly knew that I _was_ going to do this, no matter what my brain told me. Because I needed to know.

I couldn't keep doing this, otherwise.

"So … what's your plan?" Lily asked me, watching Libby and Jo settle at their table.

"What?" I said. "Sis, this was all YOUR idea! I don't have a bloody plan!"

"Well, you can't just go up to her!"

"Why not?"

"Because she'll think–"

"Well, she can't think anything worse than she already does," I cut in. "Fine! Let's do this before I freak out completely."

And I strode out from lurking in the entranceway, to where Libby and Jo had just sat down. Lily scurried after me, but I didn't wait for her; I stormed straight up to them both and before I could lose my head completely, I blurted out,

"_Why did you change your hours at the café_?!"

Libby blinked in shock. "_James_?"

She and Jo both looked bewildered and I didn't blame them. I hardly gave any warning, did I? Several other patrons glanced over at my outburst, but luckily, most went back to watching the football match, or talking to their mates. I gulped slightly, avoiding Libby's gaze.

"I mean …" I said, a lot quieter. "Um … why did you change your hours at the café?"

"I heard you the first time," Libby said, face passive.

Unsure of what to say to that, we both said nothing. Eventually, I think Lily got far too awkward simply standing behind me, so she quickly cried out, "Hey! It's Jo, right? Can you help me find the bathroom, I've got no idea where I'm going in this place!"

Jo practically leapt at the request to scarper with my sister. Libby shot her best friend a look as she disappeared, but Jo didn't exactly look sorry and I rather got the feeling that the two friends had had a similar conversation to mine and Lily's. Or, at least I hoped they had. If she was just as willing to talk …

"James, what the hell are you doing here?" Libby said then, turning to stare at me, her expression hard.

"I told you why," I answered, still standing next to her table.

"Don't give me that," Libby snorted. "How did you find me? Good lord, did you actually _follow_ me this time?"

"No!" I cried. "I didn't – er – well, I mean …" I cringed at how that sounded.

"_Oh, my god_!"

Yeeeeah. Sounded bad.

"Libby, I don't _get_ it," I said quickly, hoping to detract from the whole 'stalking' thing. Unfortunately, I probably only came off sounding desperate. Brilliant. "We … not just the shift change, but _everything_. I don't understand any of it! One second, you want to be around me, and the next, it's like you hate every fibre of my being! Which is it? Because I sure as hell can't figure it out!"

"James–" Libby hissed, glancing around her, and I realised that my voice had grown loud and carried once more. "Look, can't you just leave it? This isn't the place to talk about it!"

"Then where is?" I asked. "Because I'm not leaving until I get some answers!"

"There's nothing to say!"

"The hell there isn't, _we slept together_!"

Ok, it was hard to imagine that no one heard _that_. Looking quite mortified, Libby suddenly grabbed my arm (what was with women suddenly dragging me places today?) and she hauled me from the table, ignoring the fact that Jo and Lily were still hiding somewhere, most likely in the bathroom. She didn't stop until we had travelled all the way back outside and while standing on the street corner wasn't exactly less public, there were less people out and it was harder to overhear.

"James, you have got to stop this!" Libby cried, dropping my arm and stepping away.

"Stop what?" I asked.

"_This_! _Everything_ that you do," she added, gesturing to me wildly. "the flirting, the teasing comments, wishing for something more! It's _not_ going to happen, so get _over_ it!"

Oh, it hurt – the words struck a chord somewhere that made it painful to get out my next words. But I'd been through enough rejections to bare it. "Please, just answer me," I said, folding my arms defensively and staring down those gorgeous blue eyes. "Did you change your hours to get away from me?"

"_Yes_, ok?" Libby cried. "You drive me bloody _nuts_, James Potter, and I couldn't stand it anymore! I'm sorry, but it had to be done!"

"Ok," I answered, surprised at how calm my voice was. "I … just, ok. I understand. But there is something that I _don't_ understand, Lib," I shot her a determined look. "Mrs Malfoy's funeral."

Libby's hardened gaze faltered slightly. "Yeah," she said, softly. "I definitely owe you an apology for that."

"Go on, then. What for?"

"I … I led you on, there's no denying it," Libby, for perhaps the first time since I'd really known her, looked _ashamed_. "I knew what kind of message it would send, staying with you that night, and I did it anyway. God, it's no _wonder_ you're confused. I truly am sorry for that. I won't do anything like it again."

"I don't want you to be sorry for it," I said, talking more to my shoes now, than her. "I want …"

"I know," Libby said. "I'm sorry."

"Are you?" I muttered.

"Hey!" Libby cried at that. "I _am_, and you know it! All of this started as one huge mistake, and if I could take it back, I would–"

"No, all of this _started_ when you flirted with me back!" I countered. "Back when we first met! The second time!" I added, since Libby was starting to look dubious at my statement. I knew that getting into the past wouldn't be a good thing; I knew that even if I had a legitimate reason, nothing good would come of it, so I really should have kept my mouth shut and let it go. But for some reason, I figured that if everything else was coming out tonight, why not screw it up completely and go for the whole hog?

"You could have turned me down right from the start, but you didn't! Hell, you practically _encouraged_ it! So that night Rose dragged you out to town, things might not have gone quite so spectacularly pear-shaped, if I actually knew where you were coming from!"

"I–" Libby wasn't looking quite so sure of herself now, but she still managed to get out, "You had to know that it was never really _serious_–"

"You know, that's what I said," I pointed out. "Talking to Fred, I actually _defended_ you, but now I'm starting to see that I shouldn't have!"

"Well, what about you?!" Libby yelled. A group of blokes who were smoking outside the pub a few feet away turned in interest at her voice, but we both ignored them. "Flinging yourself at other women, boasting of your 'conquests', you even flirt with the other waitresses _in front_ of me!"

"Fine! I'm a man-whore!" I yelled back. "But you DON'T CARE, remember? And I guess that's something _I_ should apologise for, because _I_ never cared either," Oh, dear. That was a complete lie. But I couldn't take it back; I couldn't let her see how much that _definitely was _a lie.

"Oh! You're going to give me _that_?" Libby scoffed. "Sorry, no way in utter _hell_ am I believing you–!"

"Fine!" I snapped. "I'll admit that's a lie, if _you_ admit that we have something. That night of Mrs Malfoy's funeral, you let your guard down. _Why_?"

"It – it wasn't because I'm madly in _love_ with you, I can tell you that–" Libby spluttered, eyes wide.

"Then tell me!" I insisted, staring her down, taking a step forward. "Look me in the eye, and tell me that you _didn't_ let me in because on some level, you know that we have something. That there's no spark and that there's _no way_ you can feel it."

For several heart-stopping moments, Libby just stared at me, crossing her arms protectively and looking rather terrified. I honestly thought, just for a second, that she might actually give in finally and admit the truth: that she had to feel the same as I did, that she missed me as much as I missed her. That the moment in the courtyard of the Leaky Cauldron, she had wished would never end …

But then, she straightened her arms, standing tall. "I'm sorry, James," she said, voice strong. "There's nothing. I don't have feelings for you and I never will."

I'm pretty sure that at those words, a tiny part of me cracked off and shattered into a million pieces. But that sounded fairly dramatic in my mind, and I'd had enough dramatics for one night. So instead of yelling, or crying, or letting out my disappointment in some other way like I perhaps wanted to, I kept my stoic composure and ground out,

"It's fine. _No, really_," I added, since Libby was looking shaken now, like it had taken all her strength to get those words out and was on the verge of collapse. "Thank you for telling me, finally, for _real_. I … I'll see you around."

And before I could burst into tears in front of her (very manly, I'm sure) I turned on my heel and strode away.

* * *

"… she cried," Lily muttered, voice low.

"I don't care," I said, roughly.

"Yes, you do," Lily grabbed my arm, forcing me to stop storming down Kilburn High Street. It hadn't taken long for my sister to come running after me – Merlin knows that she could have found a way to watch the entire train wreck from the bathroom window – but I was almost wishing that she had left me alone just for a while longer. "James–"

"Look, LL, I'm fine!" I said, shrugging her hand away. "I got to talk to Libby and just figured some stuff out, that's all."

"James, you _screamed_ at her."

I rolled my eyes. "Was the bathroom window a good view?"

"Jo and I snuck out after you," Lily said, following as I started making my way down the street once more. Where I was walking to, I had no idea, but so long as it was _nowhere_ near Rosie O'Grady's. "We hung around the front doors. We didn't listen, but … it was kind of obvious that you'd blown up."

"I'm fine," I said once more.

"God," Lily just shook her head. "I feel like this is all my fault! I shouldn't have pressured you into finding her–"

"No, LL!" I said quickly, giving my sister a grateful look. "I … I'm glad you did. Don't be sorry."

"But I've made you _miserable_!"

"Hey, I'm James Potter," I faked a grin. "I'll get over it! But I needed to clear the air, baby sis. Couldn't have done that without talking to her. I'm glad I did it. Now, it's like you said; I can forget about it and move on."

"I didn't think it was possible for me to regret my words more," Lily cried. "Turns out, I was wrong! _James_–"

"_Don't worry_," I insisted. "Lily Potter, you are an amazing sister, and I adore you. Please don't beat yourself up. I needed to do this, for me."

"But my whole point of this was to make you feel _better_," Lily muttered. "That failed spectacularly; you're still upset!"

For a second, her words hit me, and I let the pain come through. That little part of me that had broken into pieces when Libby had defiantly told me that she didn't have feelings for me and never would. I threw an arm around Lily tightly and hugged her to my side as I walked.

"Yeah," I muttered. "and I promise, I'll be ok eventually," Lily glanced up, wrapping her arm around me, and I added, "Um … but for now, d'you reckon you could come and help me eat my body weight in ice cream?"

Lily gave a small smile. "Of course, James. What are little sisters for?"

* * *

A/N: This chapter _really_ didn't seem half as dramatic as this in my head. I apologise, I really do. Libby's terrified of what she might feel for James, so that clearly hasn't helped with all the mind games. I know things are not going too well for our intrepid duo, but things do look up soon.

Also, Rosie O'Grady's is actually the name of an Irish pub in Palmerston North, NZ, rather than Kilburn, London, which I based this fictional pub off.

Please, let me know what you think! To all those who have reviewed so far and do so consistently, _thank you so much_. I love hearing your input and all that you have to say. :)

(Sorry for the lateness. I can't promise to be on track now, but I will honestly do my best!).

Until next time -

- Moon. :D


	10. When James dumped the psychopath

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own James Potter, Christmas parties, crazy people or apologies. I do, however, own Libby. :)

* * *

When James Met Libby.

James Sirius Potter has no idea why he's telling the story of how he fell in love. He's not even romantic! Falling in love went against everything he believed in … but it happened. And he invites you to listen if you dare. :James/OC recommended reading with GIR and CGIR NextGen:

* * *

Chapter 9: When James dumped the psychopath.

"… so, essentially, you had your first fight?" Rose smirked.

"Rosie, if we tried to get into the details of 'firsts' we'd be here forever," I pointed out. "Everything's rather screwed up as it is! But I suppose I see your point. It was the first time we'd never actually spoken."

"_That_ was when you gave up, wasn't it?" Rose asked then. She tugged Libby's blanket around herself tighter, giving me a half exasperated, half sympathetic expression. "You told me yourself, you'd had enough of chasing and getting nowhere. I …" She glanced at her knees. "I had no idea that you'd had a screaming match with her in the middle of the street. You didn't seem to care when you told me."

"Like I was going to admit that I cared!" I said. "I put it out of my mind as quick as I could and told myself that I was over it. In fact, I like to think I did a reasonably well job at it!"

"Yeah, and how long did _that_ last?" Rose snorted.

"Roughly? Just over a year."

Rose sat up straight, staring at me. "Oh, come on," she scoffed. "There's no way you never spoke to her for a _year_!"

"I swear, it's true!" I cried at once. "I barely saw her at work and if we did happen to cross paths, we would both pretend we hadn't seen each other! It actually got rather awkward …"

"Because you weren't awkward enough already?"

"Fair point," I grinned. "But do not worry, for all hope is not lost! There was a party."

"Oh, _this_ ought to be good," Rose said.

Rose was right to sound apprehensive; this next part of the story gets a little crazy! For an entire year, I avoided Libby like the plague. Did it suck? Why, yes. Was I hurt by the things she had said to me? Again, yes. Did I still imagine ourselves snogging against the front counter of Café Julio before skipping off into the sunset?

Honestly … _no_.

It wasn't that the idea ever left my mind; it was still there at the back, always ready to come bursting forward to the front of my brain should an opportunity arise. But I didn't let myself dwell on it, because I knew that if I did, I would never let it go.

And I _needed_ to let it go. Libby clearly already had.

So I convinced myself I didn't care and subsequently that year, I went out on a bender! Off the top of my head, I can remember about three girlfriends from that period; an actress who claimed to have been a main character on a popular Muggle soap opera (only I later found out that she was killed off after two episodes); a girl I don't like to label as a 'stripper', more of an … exotic dancer; and a biker who scared the shit out of me when she wanted to have sex _while_ riding her motorcycle (I'm _still_ not sure if that's even possible!).

And Rose says I'm picky. Please!

I know what you're thinking. James, if you _fell in love with Libby_, how could you _possibly_ go out with all these different women? It didn't matter. I was upset, I was hurt, and the fact that I was in love didn't even register in my mind. You think I _knew_ what being in love meant? Come _on_! My one night with Libby had pretty much just become some wild, sexy dream that I was never _ever_ going to forget.

And determined to _make_ myself forget, I turned to the next best thing: alcohol and women.

I was a little bit angry at Libby too, I'll admit. She had, after all, somewhat lead me on when perhaps it would have been best if she'd put me out of my misery sooner, rather than later. I wasn't really in any sort of head-space to try and talk to her, even if I wanted to.

But _then_, Café Julio had its annual Christmas party …

* * *

(_2028_)

"Merry Christmas, my Julio brethren!" I called, throwing my arms out in front of me with a flourish.

"Merry Christmas, James!" Taylor was the first to greet me, leaping into a hug almost the second I was through the door. Several other waitresses, including Maggie, Anna and Abby, were just behind her, all of them cheering 'merry Christmas's as they joined Taylor in throwing their arms around me.

"Hey, steady on, now!" I cried, nearly bowled over by the force. "I know I'm irresistible to you lovely ladies, but you need to watch the hat!"

"Oh, dear," Maggie snorted once the girls had all recovered from their excitement. "James, I think you're the only person in the world who could pull off a Santa Clause hat in the shape of a sombrero."

"My little sister bought it for me overseas somewhere," I grinned, holding the brim and giving her a tip of my said hat. "I think it suits me!"

"Mate, I think you're going to take someone's eye out with that thing," one of the chefs, Diego, pointed out. He grinned as he joined our group, throwing an arm around Abby's shoulders.

"I think he's trying to land planes on it," Abby agreed.

"Land what?" I repeated dumbly. Half a second later, I noticed the slightly confused looks on my friends' faces and realised that planes were the insane metal death traps that Muggles used to get from point A to point B.

You know, sometimes, I forget that I work alongside a bunch of people who have no idea magic exists.

To cover up the slightly awkward moment (and, admittedly, just making it more awkward) I quickly burst out, "OH! PLANES! RIGHT!" and thankfully, the others just laughed. I was even more grateful when, at that moment, Butch, Manny, and Manny's girlfriend arrived, forcing us to move out of the way of the doors.

Every year, Café Julio closed early the last Saturday before Christmas, specifically so we could throw our annual party. The lobby was decorated like the entire Christmas section at Marks and Spencer had exploded in there! Tinsel wrapped around the table legs, fairy lights were strung up around the walls and were lining the menu board; they flashed on and off in the soft light of the café, throwing splashes of colour over the walls. Nearly every employee at Café Julio was here, which meant that there were over fifty people crammed into the lobby, over half of whom I'd never even met, since we never worked the same shifts. They laughed and talked, secretly drinking the wine that was being passed around (secret, because we had under aged teenagers working at Café Julio) and wished our managers a merry Christmas. Aurora waved when she caught my eye, and a shrill shriek from the opposite side of the lobby told me that one of the maintenance blokes, Carl, was carrying around mistletoe again, trying to cop a feel of every female in the café.

This place was almost as insane as my family was, but in a way, it almost _fit_. Families are _supposed_ to be nuts, right? There's the normal one, the mother, the odd uncle, the black sheep, and occasionally a great-aunt who you try to send a wrong invitation to on purpose. Sure enough, Aurora was shooting an exasperated look to one of the other mangers over the shoulder of Gracie, the fifty-year-old woman who cleaned the lobby during the weekdays, who was probably rambling about her pet poodles again. The other manager, Paul, hastily hid the bottle of vodka behind his back, waving with his other hand and stepping away from the eggnog.

Café Julio _was_ my family.

"So what're you doing for Christmas this year, James?" Abby asked me then, as Taylor, Maggie and Anna struck up an excited conversation with Rodger and Jenny, who had just arrived.

"Oh, the usual," I shrugged. "Big family get together at my grandma's house."

"Exactly _how_ many cousins have you got, again?" Diego asked, looking amused.

"Ten! No, hang on …" I had to think about it for a second. "Nine, technically. I think. Are we counting adopted cousins? Because it's ten in that case."

"I can only imagine what it must be like!" Abby said, then. "It's normally just me and my parents! But they're going away this year."

I gave a fake gasp. "_What_?" I cried. "They're _abandoning_ you on _Christmas_?"

Abby snorted, dislodging Diego slightly as she leaned over to punch me on the arm. "They decided that they're going to spend Christmas in Spain this year," she answered. "Said I was old enough to entertain myself now!"

"First Christmas with mates, rather than family," Diego added, giving his girlfriend a fond look. "Should be …"

"If you say 'interesting', I _will_ hit you," Abby warned, glancing up at him.

"I was going to say 'spectacular'!"

"Diego's not exactly optimistic about the whole thing, as you can see," Abby pointed out.

"What's there to be _optimistic_ about?" Diego said, slightly exasperated, though he still made sure to haul Abby closer into his side. "You worry about presents, about money, you have to cook all this food that nobody eats because everyone eats something different, everyone has different traditions and complain when they don't happen, someone _always_ ends up crying–"

"–but that's what makes Christmas _brilliant_!" I cut in.

Diego and Abby both looked at me like I was an alien, which I suppose was understandable. What Diego didn't realise, however, was that he'd pretty much just described a Weasley Christmas in one sentence.

"James, you may need to expand on that one," Abby said.

"I'm just saying," I shrugged. "Sure, Christmas can be stressful, but that's why it's fun! You get to run around, opening presents, breaking them and fixing them, possibly inadvertently setting the Christmas tree on fire–"

"You didn't actually do that, did you?" Abby raised an eyebrow.

"Only once – possibly …" I added, since I was honestly not sure at this point. I vividly remembered a year that the tree fell over thanks to me and Fred trying to climb it when we were younger, but it was possible that it got too close to the flames of the fireplace …

Anyway. I'm getting off my point.

"I'm just saying," I finished, hastily. "Christmas is nuts, and that's why I love it!"

"James, I think _you_ are nuts," Abby pointed out. "but hey, I think that's why we all love _you_."

I grinned and was just about to ask the couple if they wanted to sneak a glass of wine, when there came a sudden screech from around near the doorway. Several people turned at the noise and my heart suddenly leapt up into my throat in fear. I could almost imagine hacksaws and violins shrieking as I spun around.

Speaking of _nuts_ …

"_James_!" Diana squealed in her heavy accent, her blond head peering over the crowd. "James! Are you here?!"

"Holy shit, _she's found me_!" I cried, leaping in a panic behind Diego and Abby.

"What the hell–?"

"Don't turn around, for Christ's sake!" I hissed, since the two of them had both moved to stare at me in bewilderment. I shoved on their backs, making them face the doors once more. "You can't let her see me! What the heck is she doing here?"

"Who _is_ that girl?" Diego asked then, eyeing the tall, curvy woman with slight apprehension.

"_That_, would be my psycho ex-girlfriend," I answered, hastily. "I dumped her about a week ago, but either she didn't understand all the English or she's actually just insane, because she still seems to think we're together!"

"Where's she from?" Abby asked.

"I don't know! I asked, but when she answered, it came out all Dutch or French or Canadian or something!"

"Canadian?" Abby snorted.

"_I don't freaking know_!" I cried, still ducking down behind the two. "I thought she was pretty cool at first, but then she got weird and – shit, she's coming! Tell her I'm not here!" I added, since peering between my friends' shoulders, I could see Diana coming this way. Giving Diego and Abby pats on the back in thanks, I quickly darted off into the crowd, hoping to get lost, or even better, duck out of here without Diana seeing.

"Hello – I am looking for James. He works here, yes …?" I heard her ask.

How the hell she managed to remember where I worked, even though she couldn't seem to remember the fact that I broke up with her, was beyond me. The relationship hadn't exactly been that long, even by my standards; in fact, I'm pretty sure we hadn't even hit three weeks before I couldn't take it anymore. I'd met her in a bar, she was hot enough, give me a break!

I know it's horrible to dump someone this close to Christmas, but seriously, the woman had wanted me to _shave her back for her_ while singing some foreign lullaby. The sex had _not_ been worth it.

I moved through the crowd towards the back of the café. For a moment, I leaned against the front counter, trying to breathe calmly while peering through the people, trying to judge if I was really noticeable from here. I figured I should perhaps move further along the counter so I could use Butch's large frame to block most of me from sight. I started moving backwards, keeping my eyes on the crowd –

"_Ah_! What–?"

"Shit, I–" My words died in my throat.

Libby.

* * *

Her purple top was stained and, judging from the empty wine glass in her hand, I guessed that it was me who knocked into her and caused her to spill it everywhere. I should have been apologising, offering to get her another drink, _anything_ but staring at her piercing blue eyes or the dark hair that had been pulled up in a twist on top of her head, tinsel wrapped around the bun.

I couldn't help it. I hadn't seen the woman in over a month, and that occasion had just been the usual awkward bump in the break room or in the doorway to the café as our shifts crossed over. I certainly hadn't spoken to her, apart from the odd apology, since that night outside Rosie O'Grady's. The night I mostly tried to forget about. The night I was still kind of mad about.

The night I was certainly _not_ ready to face yet, even though it had been just over a year ago.

Realising that I was just standing there, still gaping, I figured that it was only polite to say _something_.

"Uh … sorry," I muttered.

Really? That's the best you can do?

"It's fine," Libby said, quietly. Her eyes were still rather wide and she looked almost like she wanted to throw up. Her fingers were tight around the stem of her wine glass.

"I – I mean – I _didn't_ mean to – I can get you another–?"

"No, seriously, James," she said. An explosion seemed to go off in my chest at the mention of my name; I hadn't heard it from her lips since … well, you know. "It was an accident, it's fine. It's just sparkling grape juice, anyway."

"Fair enough," I said, weakly. "Um …"

I felt kind of helpless; seriously, what do I _say_? There were a million things that I _wanted_ to get out – did you mean what you said, why did you rip my heart out, is it true that you could never feel anything for me, I still kind of like you – but, forgive me if I'm wrong, it all seemed rather too heavy for light, casual conversation at a party. Was I even _obligated_ to say something? Could I just run out of here and pretend I'd never bumped into her?

"I should … go?" I practically asked.

Libby's face was unreadable; she might have been devastated or ecstatic at my words, I had no idea. The woman would make one hell of a poker player. "Of course," she said at once, seeming to recover and taking a step back. "You go! I'll just …"

I watched her for a moment as she turned, placing her empty glass on the front counter and I tried to force myself to walk away. Then, just as I managed to take one step, a single voice was enough to make me suddenly lurch in the exact opposite direction, closer to Libby and further from the _monster_.

"_Jaaaaaames_!"

"Oh my GOD, hide me!" I cried, cringing.

Libby faced me in confusion, blinking in surprise when she noticed how close I'd accidentally gotten. "What is it?" she asked.

"Ex-girlfriend – absolute _nutcase_ – somehow tracked me down, got into the party–" I explained quickly, glancing over my shoulder. Sure enough, Diana was only a few groups away, seemingly still looking for me. "Oh, _fu_–!"

"If you dumped her, why does it matter?" Libby asked, looking sceptical.

"Did I mention that she was a NUTCASE?" I reiterated to her. "I first broke up with her a week ago, and I've subsequently done it again about fifteen times since! The woman just doesn't seem to _get_ it!"

"Where is she?" Libby asked then. I was slightly confused at why she was asking – hell, I would have high-tailed it out of here by now if it were me – but I still pointed Diana out to her through the crowd, trying to duck behind Libby in the process.

"Can she see me?" I asked.

"She – no, James, you can't _hide behind _me!" Libby said exasperatedly, turning around and noticing me crouching.

"Sure I can, if you just lean up a bit–"

"No, I mean, if you want to actually get rid of this woman, you need a new tactic," Libby said. "Clearly, giving it to her straight isn't working, so you'll have to be more drastic."

"I don't think I can get any more drastic than, 'Diana, if you break into my flat one more time, I'm going to call the police'!" I cried, reluctantly standing up straight.

Amazingly, Libby actually cracked a smile at that. "She broke into your flat?" she asked.

"Stole my underwear," I managed a small smirk.

For that slight split second, it was like nothing had ever happened. We might have suddenly been transported to four years ago, joking together as we worked, like we used to. The sun of Saturday morning could have been pouring through the windows and Aurora might be seconds away from telling us off for flirting when we should have been serving once again. She might laugh and make some quick quip about why she would want my underwear before blowing a kiss and taking the next order …

But I was 23-years-old and not 19 anymore. There was no getting around what happened. But as one of our colleagues inadvertently pointed out to Diana where I was by the counter, Libby gave me a look that I hadn't seen a while.

A mischievous face, set with sparkling eyes.

A pang hit me somewhere around my chest. Merlin knows how much I had missed _that_.

"This … will most probably screw things up even more," she said, quickly. "but, hell, it can't get worse right? I have an idea."

"I'll do anything at this point."

"Good," Libby said. "Be my boyfriend."

I might have fainted on the spot, if I hadn't reached out behind me and grabbed the counter.

"Good lord, don't have a heart attack!" Libby cried, hastily grabbing onto my arm to steady me.

"What – _what_–?" I spluttered.

"Look, if your ex won't get that you're over her, then seeing you with another woman might – _oh_, just cuddle me, would you?"

I'll admit that I was still rather panicking, but Diana chose that moment to finally spot me. She shrieked, "JAMES!" and that pretty much decided it for me. Before I could think about it, I reached out and hauled Libby into my arms, hugging her waist tightly. She threw an arm around my neck and I hid my face in her hair. She was once again pressed against me and I couldn't handle how _right_ it felt to have her in my arms. God, I couldn't handle _any_ of it. I loved it, I _loved_ –

"James–! _James_?" Diana halted before us.

While the jump wasn't exactly faked, I retracted an arm so I could turn and face her as if startled.

"Oh, Diana! What a surprise!" I said, keeping my other arm around Libby's waist, tightly. "What – what are you doing here … at my work's Christmas do?"

"I am finding you, of course!" Diana said, rolling her eyes and tossing her thick, blond hair over her shoulder. Diana had the face of a supermodel, but underneath it all, I _swear_ she was pure insanity. "You ran away – yes? We go home now, yes?"

"James?" Libby asked then, sounding genuinely curious. I was highly aware of her arm draped across my back, hand gripping my shoulder. I was probably concentrating more on trying not to combust at the feel of it than listening to my ex. Libby added in an overly enthusiastic voice, "Who is this _lovely_ woman?"

"I am Diana," the psycho said haughtily, eyeing Libby with distaste. "I am James' girlfriend."

Libby suddenly let out a laugh, squeezing my shoulder. "I think I must have missed something!" she said. "Sorry sister, but _I'm_ his girlfriend. I think you're a bit confused."

"No – no, I am not!" Diana cried. Oh, dear, she was getting angry. There's no telling what the woman can do when she's angry! She once tried to cut my hair while I was sleeping and collected my drool in a bowl! (Ahem, not that I, uh, drool in my sleep or anything).

"James?" Libby asked, then. "Care to explain?"

"Definitely an ex – sorry, Diana," I added, in hopes that she wouldn't, I don't know, breathe fire or something. "I'm with Libby, now."

"But you …" Diana looked _seriously_ bewildered; clearly, nothing like this had ever happened to her before! I wonder what happened to her previous boyfriends? She's probably got them locked up in a basement somewhere. Either that, or she's eaten them. "We are to be together forever, yes?"

Libby and I exchanged looks; while I raised an eyebrow as if to say, _see?_ her mouth twitched like she was answering, _I see what you mean! Girl's a total nutcase! _

"Diana, I don't think you are _getting_ it," I said determinedly, completely past trying to be pleasant and reasonable. "_I do not like you_! Our relationship, if you could even _call_ it that, is _over_! So give up and go back home to Russia or Alaska, or wherever the heck it is that you're from!"

For a moment, I thought that Diana was going to explode … like, seriously, her entire head went bright red and her eyes practically bulged out of the sockets! But just as I thought it had _finally_ gotten through that crazy brain of hers, she suddenly _grinned_, and said,

"You are very funny, James! That is why I adore you! Come – we must go shave and eat and have sex!"

I _sincerely_ hoped not at the same time.

I sighed as Diana reached out and grabbed hold of my wrist tightly, trying to tug me away with her. Was I to be forever dragged around after this lunatic?! Just as I considered who I would leave my empty flat to in my will before _killing_ myself, Libby stepped forward. Diana had mostly ignored her up until this point, but that was when Libby suddenly reached out and yanked my wrist out of Diana's grip. Libby shoved on my chest, making me stumble back a few paces as Diana scowled.

"What are you doing?" the crazy woman asked. I almost thought Diana was about to pounce!

But whatever her face, it was nothing compared to _Libby's_. She looked practically feral; eyes narrowed to slits and her fingers curling.

"Oh, I'll tell you _what I am doing_," Libby said, stepping forward. Diana held her ground, but her scowl had waned slightly. "I am the woman who will be _kicking your arse_ if you don't _back the hell off_!"

"I …" Diana's scowl faltered even further; she now looked rather uncomfortable and, if it was anything like how I was feeling, a little _scared for her life_. "James, he is–"

"_Mine_," Libby practically growled.

And _that_, ladies and gentlemen, is how Liberty Greer Fletcher managed to break my resolve after a solid year of awkward avoiding! One word, and my mind exploded.

_Just that single word_.

"Do you understand me?" Libby added.

"You – you believe you have James?"

"Oh, I _know_ it," Libby snarled. "James Potter is _my_ boyfriend and if you are really stupid enough to try and change that, then you will have _me_ to answer to! And trust me, girl," I couldn't see Libby's face, since I was still partially cowering behind her … but I could imagine the evil grin quite clearly as she took another step forward. This time, Diana hastily staggered back. "_I would rip you to shreds_."

She's amazing.

I have no idea what Diana said in response to that, or indeed if she even said anything at all, since any words that came out of her mouth would no doubt be quick, hasty, and most likely in a foreign language. Libby straightened, folding her arms in satisfaction, as she continued,

"So! I think we've come to an understanding, yes?"

"You – _you_ are James' boyfriend!" Diana cried at once, face terrified. "I will leave now!"

I could practically hear the smirk in her words. "Good answer," Libby said.

"Lib …" I said weakly, still staring at her back. "That was …"

"Oh, god, it was complete overkill, wasn't it?" she suddenly asked, all traces of that dangerous-hellcat-Libby disappearing almost as quickly as Diana took off into the crowd. Libby let a hand rise to her shoulder; the way her fingers scrambled told me that if her hair had been down around her shoulders, she would have been nervously playing with the ends.

"Are you _kidding_ me?" I cried. "Libby, that was best god-damned thing I've seen in my life!"

Libby allowed herself a small smile, thankfully. I returned it until eventually, the excitement and rush of the past few minutes ebbed. Unfortunately, there was more to this mess than simply saving me from crazy ex-girlfriends.

"But …"

"It doesn't change anything," Libby muttered, staring at her shoes.

"No … it's a step," I pointed out. "A good one. Now how about we get the hell out of here? I'm in the mood for ice cream and … I'm fairly certain there's more to say."

Libby smirked. "I suppose that means I'm buying?"

* * *

I think life likes messing with me.

If you had told me a year ago that one day, I would be walking down the street with Libby, eating ice cream with her, I would have laughed in your face. Libby hated me. She wanted nothing to do with me!

… and she just bought me a double-chocolate hazelnut swirl.

"Is this a bit surreal?" I asked after several moments of walking in silence.

Libby stared at her ice cream cone. We weren't exactly walking with a destination in mind; we were more or less wandering the dark streets together, simultaneously keeping close out of safety and hastily trying to pull back whenever our arms awkwardly bumped.

"I don't know what to say," she admitted.

"How about we start with what you've been doing this past year?"

Libby simply shrugged. "Pretty much what I've been doing the past four years of my life," she answered. "Working."

"You forgot hanging with your friends, partying, and looking beautiful," I pointed out.

"James …" Libby said, softly.

"I know!" I cried. "Stupid James can never keep his mouth shut! It's why you told me to piss the hell off a year ago, right?"

"No – James –" Libby reached out and caught hold of my elbow as I tried to angrily storm off. I knew I couldn't handle this. I knew I wasn't in the right mind-space to accept anything from her, yet I asked her out for ice cream anyway! Do I seriously _like_ causing myself pain?

"Lib, it's fine, I don't care anymore," I said, talking to the empty street, ignoring her fingers digging into my skin. "I don't know what I was thinking, I don't need to hear anything you say."

"Yes, you do," she said at once. "And James, _I_ need to say it. _I'm sorry_. I'm sorry for _everything_!"

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does!" Libby cried, and I turned around to face her. Her ice cream was starting to melt, a river of chocolate running through her fingers, but she either didn't notice or didn't care. She was staring at me intently. "James, I owe you every apology in the world! I gave you one for Mrs Malfoy's funeral, but that wasn't enough. There are so many things I shouldn't have done. I shouldn't have encouraged you. I shouldn't have given you false hope. I shouldn't have just assumed nothing was serious and that you didn't actually want anything out of this, because what the hell do I know? That's my worst flaw; I think I know everything, know _better_. I assumed, and that's why I did it, but it's not an excuse. You were hurt because of me. And … I'm sorry."

A part of me wanted to just take her apology and throw it back in her face. But this was the woman who had so wickedly defended me against a psycho and snarled, 'Mine' despite the fact that we hadn't spoken in a year. This was the woman who convinced her cousin to kiss me and sang like a stripper without a care. This was the woman whose dance moves could knock you flat. This was the woman who went out with idiots just to piss off her mother, when she was clearly worth so much _more_.

This was … Libby.

"So," I said after a deep breath; I added a smirk as I asked, "you _don't_ hate me?"

Libby almost looked like she wanted to roll her eyes, but thought better of it. As we started tentatively walking again, she lifted her hand to lick the chocolate that had run down her skin. I forced myself to stare straight ahead and not think of a time when that tongue had been doing the same to _my_ skin.

"I've never _hated_ you, James," she said, then. "Found you extremely annoying, perhaps … maybe wanted to lock you in a wardrobe for an eternity … but nah, I couldn't _hate_ you."

"You know I don't hate you too, right?" I pointed out.

"Why?" Libby muttered. "I'd hate me after what I did."

"It wasn't done on purpose," I said quietly, talking to my feet in between licks of my fast-melting ice cream. "It wasn't malicious. You never _meant_ to hurt me. Hell, I don't even want to admit that you _did_ hurt me! So I don't hate you. Never would, never could."

"I really don't deserve that."

"I _really_ don't care."

Libby looked up at me then and there was a genuine smile on her face; those eyes were sparkling. "Fair enough," she said.

We were quiet for a few blocks, as we finished off our half-melted ice creams. Eventually, we found a rubbish bin at the edge of a small reserve that took up an entire block. The moon shone through the trees, and there were several walking tracks that wound through the green. By some unspoken agreement, Libby and I threw away our soiled napkins before taking to one of the paths, alone except for the chirping sounds of the night.

Now that we didn't have the ice creams to distract us, the danger of our arms coming in contact was ridiculously high. To stop myself from reaching out, I shoved my hands in my pockets, hoping that the wide brim of my ridiculous sombrero Santa hat would be enough to deter her. Libby twisted her fingers together as she walked, until eventually, she found something to say.

"Have you spoken to Rosie recently?" she asked.

I was slightly taken aback by the sudden conversation change, but I leapt at it regardless; _anything_ to get away from the heavy apologies for a moment and just go back to talking about something we both had in common: my crazy cousin.

"Nah, not really," I shrugged. "But we're both busy, aren't we? Why?"

"I don't really know," Libby admitted. "I mean, it's not _obvious_ that something's wrong … I'll bet that Al and Bea haven't even noticed. But I think things are slightly awkward between her and Scorpius."

"Aren't those two _always_ slightly awkward to be around?" I snorted.

"Oh, when they started yelling, _definitely_," Libby said. "But no, I mean something more than that. Every time we all get together, they don't really talk much, and if they do, it's about something silly or completely not serious. I don't know what's wrong, or even if anything _is_ wrong! I'm probably being stupid, actually …"

"Libby, if there is one thing I have learned about you since we met, it is that you are the most observant woman I know," I pointed out. "If anyone could tell if something's wrong, it would be you."

"Thanks," Libby muttered, quietly. "I want to help, but I don't want to say anything in case I've read everything wrong. And hell, it wouldn't even _be_ my place to say something!"

"You care," I said. "That's all that matters."

"You know, you're being uncharacteristically sweet tonight, James," Libby grinned then.

"What can I say?" I answered. "Take it while you can! Vulgar James will be back by tomorrow, no doubt!"

"I'm sorry I changed my hours on you and didn't say why," Libby suddenly said, quickly. "I should have–"

"No, Libby, you didn't have to say anything," I said at once. "They're _your_ work hours, they've got nothing to do with me."

"But I did it so I wouldn't have to see you anymore," Libby tugged on my sleeve then for emphasis, my chest lurching at the motion. "Instead of running, I should have just spoken to you."

"We've both made mistakes, Libby," I said, glancing at her over my shoulder. "and you're sorry. Nothing more needs to be said."

"I feel like there's an entire _speech_ that needs to be said," Libby admitted. "and I can't believe you're being so _ok_ with this! I wouldn't be! I'd be kicking my arse to hell and back!"

"Do you _want_ me to be mad at you, or something?" I asked, kind of amused now.

"No, of course not – but it's what I deserve!" Libby said, exasperated.

"Ok, you need to quit with the whole 'I deserve it' thing," I cut in. "I've had an entire _year_ to stew over my anger and hurt feelings; I've had my chance to be mad at you and hate you. Now, I'm just … _over_ being angry. And then, seeing you today … what you did for me, with Diana … I don't _want_ to be mad at you anymore. Can't you understand that?"

"I can," Libby said, softly. "Doesn't stop me from blaming myself, though."

"Blame yourself all you like – I can't stop you," I told her. "but don't keep taking it out on me. I'm over the anger. You need to work on getting over it at yourself."

Libby stared hard for a moment. _That_ was probably the heaviest thing I've ever said in my life. Good lord, I didn't even realise I had it in me! But I meant every word I said. It was tiring being angry.

I hoped that Libby could see that someday, too.

"I feel the need to apologise again," she said, eventually.

I felt my mouth twitch in a smile. "Naturally."

"But I won't," she said, looking up at me. "I've done it already, and … you're right, James. Another apology won't change anything."

"My dear Libby, I believe that you have grown up several years in the space of that one statement!" I grinned.

"Oh, good lord," Libby pointed out. "For a moment there, you were more mature than me!"

"At least things are back in their natural order now," I joked, but my voice trailed off slightly after that. There was something attached to that statement that I wanted clarifying … but the idea of doing so kind of terrified me.

Oh, well. Nothing like the present!

"The only thing we need to do now, Libby," I muttered, quickly before I could lose my nerve. "is … well, figure out where we go from here."

I didn't want to bring it up. God knows that it would end in a catastrophe, most likely of the Firewhiskey and underwear variety. But this was when my little sister's voice was ringing in my head; just like I needed an explanation, I needed clarification. I needed to know exactly what happened now, or I might just go mad.

Libby sighed, softly and she paused in the middle of the reserve path we had been wandering down. Surrounded by trees and bushes, I felt like we were worlds away from London city.

"I suppose …" she said, slowly. "we move on."

"We … what, get past it?" I suggested.

"Exactly," Libby nodded.

"Just like that?"

"Look, I know things can't magically be fixed," Libby said to me, her face subdued. "and … I'm keeping my new hours. It's probably for the best anyway. But I won't ignore you," she managed a small smile. "We weren't exactly _friends_ before … and I know we won't suddenly be friends now. But I know what you're like, James," she added. "You can't resist making someone smile. And I wouldn't mind being that someone … if that's ok."

I just grinned back at her, grateful for all that she had said. I kind of wanted to track down Lily in whatever country she was in at the moment just so I could give her the biggest bear hug I could for making me do this.

"'Friends' is such a mainstream term, anyway," I teased. "Knew you'd miss me. _No one_ can resist The James!"

"Oh, of course," Libby snorted. "Especially when you put 'the' in front of your name."

"_Everything_ sounds cooler with 'the'."

"… The Libby?"

"If there's anyone who deserves a 'the', it's you!" I grinned. Libby laughed, before turning to move back down the reserve path again. Before she could say anything else and get us talking about some other random topic, I reached out and grabbed her arm, making her look back at me quizzically.

"Lib?"

"Y – yeah?"

I squeezed her arm, gently. "Apology accepted."

* * *

A/N: For once, I have an actual legitimate excuse for not updating when I was supposed to: I was far too busy driving eight hours across the country to Armageddon Expo in Auckland, to meet _Evanna Lynch_! She complemented my Luna Lovegood-themed nails and I got her autograph. I nearly cried.

So yeah. My updates are likely to stay this sporadic at least until mid-December and I'm out for the summer. Either way, thank you for sticking with me!

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! James and Libby sort of on the mend; still awkward, and Libby's still mad at herself, but we're getting somewhere. For those who can remember what happened next, we're well into the events of CGIR now. Things shall get interesting very soon. :)  
Please let me know what you think!

Until next time -

- Moon. :D


	11. When James and Libby risk Azkaban

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own James Potter, birthdays, perverts, or dark alleys. I do, however, own Libby. :)

* * *

When James Met Libby.

James Sirius Potter has no idea why he's telling the story of how he fell in love. He's not even romantic! Falling in love went against everything he believed in … but it happened. And he invites you to listen if you dare. :James/OC recommended reading with GIR and CGIR NextGen:

* * *

Chapter 10: When James and Libby risk Azkaban.

So things got better.

Not _perfect_ … but better, at least.

It wasn't the same as before things when disastrously pear-shaped, but it also wasn't the horrible awkwardness like in the aftermath, or the blinding pain from the past year. If we _did_ happen to come across each other at the café, we'd stop, we'd say hello, I'd make an inappropriate joke and she would either laugh or hit me … I certainly _missed_ what it was like before. But there was no point in dwelling on it.

No one likes to stay stuck in the past.

"Wow," Rose said then, staring at me in awe. "James! You grew up!"

"Perhaps not quite into the dashing man that I am now, but yeah," I grinned. "I did quite a bit of growing up that year."

"I still can't believe you just _accepted_ her apology," Rose admitted. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you did! But I always thought that it would take you longer to get over it. To get over her."

"Oh, trust me, I told myself I was over her many, many times!" I pointed out. "In fact, I repeated that statement in my head so much I almost believed it was true!"

"So what happened next?" Rose asked then. "If it was Christmas, I can't think of anything significant until the shop explosion in February."

"_What_?" I exclaimed. "Rose! You've forgotten perhaps the most important event of the _year_!"

Rose gave me a look that was half-apologetic, half quizzical. She was clearly trying to strain her brain with absolutely no luck. "Of course," she said, hastily. "January! Um … that means … uh … that was when I broke up with Scorpius …? No!" she cried out, since I just sighed with exasperation. I mean, honestly! "Hang on, I remember! Your birthday's in January, isn't it?"

"_Finally_, the woman remembers!" I cried. "Bloody hell, you've only known me your entire life …"

"A lot of stuff is happening at the moment, I can't be expected to remember _all_ the details," Rose grinned.

"You abuse me so, dear cousin."

"You love me anyway," Rose grinned, settling back against the arm of the sofa, Libby's fluffy blanket now resting across her lap. "I'm sure you'd much rather talk about your birthday than my own insane dramas."

I just snorted at that statement. "You'd be surprised, your insane dramas can actually be rather entertaining! Is it … _strange_ to remember the fact that you broke up with Scorpius at one point, when now, you're about to get married? Which, now that I remember, _is_ a point: aren't you supposed to be picking out lace or tablecloth designs or some other shit for that wedding of yours?" I added. I kicked my feet up onto the coffee table that was still covered in bridal magazines and table plans, but Rose seemed to have completely abandoned them in favour of listening to my story instead.

She waved a hand dismissively at the coffee table. "I'm supposed to be organising a seating plan, but it can wait," she said.

"Meaning, it's boring you to tears and you'll fob it off onto your mum later."

"You know me so well," Rose laughed. "Really, I'll get round to it … eventually. And in answer to your question, I'm just thankful that I'm at a place now where I can simply laugh about everything that happened between us! Hell, I used to try and block out most of my fifth-year at Hogwarts, but now I can think back to that screaming match in the Entrance Hall and giggle."

"I don't think I could block out that memory, even if I tried!" I pointed out. The day Rose and Scorpius had first got together – consisting of screamed confessions in front of hundreds of people – was _remarkably_ vivid in my mind.

"But my point is, nah, remembering the hard times doesn't bother me anymore," Rose smiled then. "If anything, remembering makes me more thankful that we're here now, about to get married."

"If you can ever finish that seating plan," I pointed out.

"Oh, I don't bloody _care_ where anyone sits!" Rose said, exasperatedly. "So long as Scorpius's dad is kept far away from my parents, everything will be fine! Now," she said, giving me a sparkling look not unlike Libby's. "enough about me. Tell me what happened at your birthday!"

"Well, technically, nothing happened _at_ my birthday," I pointed out. "Just … on my birthday. Rosie, does the name 'Creepy Howard' ring a bell for you?"

Rose's eyes lit up. "That pervert boss of yours who would hit on all the female waitresses?"

"Got it in one!"

"Libby complained about him for _years_," Rose said. "Almost as much as she complained about you!"

We had multiple managers at Café Julio, and clearly our favourite was the always lovely, Aurora. She was almost always the manager who would be on duty whenever I had to work anyway, so most of the time neither Libby nor I had to worry about any others.

But _then_ … there was Creepy Howard. He had to be at least fifty years old and Taylor the waitress had appropriately dubbed him, 'Pervert of the Year' at one point. Even _I_ wasn't as sleazy as him! (And we all know how much I loved the girls).

So like I mentioned, this moment took place on a _very_ special day, also known as January 18th 2029. It was the year Rose and Scorpius broke up and sent everyone into a tailspin of madness. It was the year I accidentally blew up my uncle's joke shop. It was the year Al and Bea got married.

It was also the same year Libby and I got together …

But, of course, _that_ part of the story comes later.

* * *

(_2029_)

"Hope your voice boxes are tuned up, because you've got a birthday song to sing today!" I called out cheerfully, the second I banged into the tiny break room at Café Julio.

However, one look around the room was enough to tell me that something was _definitely_ wrong. Taylor, Anna, and a couple of other waitresses were all sitting together at the table, huddling together rather close. In fact, with their morose faces and the P.V. screen on the wall actually turned off the music channel for a change, it almost looked like the women were … _cowering_.

I let my arms fall to my side at once, face dropping.

"What's wrong?" I asked at once.

"Aurora," Taylor said, looking horrified. "She's sick!"

"Oh, god," I hardly paid attention as I threw my bag into one of the lockers; for all I know, it crashed to the ground. "It's _him_, isn't it? Creepy Howard's covering for her?"

"Creepy Howard!" Anna cried.

Oh, dear _lord_!

Being a bloke myself, I didn't have to worry about unwanted advances from Creepy Howard … but _hell_, I got angry when I saw that the girls had to hide in the break room like that, just to get away from him! Some birthday I was going to get; normally, it didn't take long for everyone to remember (mainly because I yelled it out for all to hear), and usually, there would be singing and free cake for everyone in the café!

(That cake I normally ended up paying for myself, but that _totally_ wasn't the point).

If Creepy Howard was going to screw up my usual Café Julio birthday tradition, I was going to be _so_ pissed off. I mean, I myself might be a bit of a flirt, but I didn't make girls want to actually change their hours, just to avoid seeing me!

… um, let's _not_ remember the fact that Libby actually did that, year before last. Never mind.

"Don't you worry, ladies," I said at once with the most understanding grin I could muster plastered across my face. My birthday would simply have to wait for now. "I will make sure that you are all appreciated for your excellent waitressing and brewing skills, rather than your hot arses. Although, you do have those," I added as an afterthought and Taylor smacked at my arm with a laugh.

"Shut up, James," she said, "I should haul _you_ up for sexual harassment!" But, despite the teasing, I could tell that the young woman appreciated my sentiment.

I wished that I could stay with the girls to look after them somehow; I didn't know _how_, exactly, but I knew that I couldn't just leave them terrified! Unfortunately, I was shoved out back in the kitchens today, as I normally was whenever Creepy Howard happened to be working. He always wanted all the pretty girls out front where he could hit on them freely (naturally) so my fellow blokes and I were always shunted to the less-than-stellar jobs out back where he couldn't see us.

A damn mistake, if you ask me.

"Bloody hell, I miss Aurora," Butch sighed, overseeing the preparation of several orders of nachos.

"I called Abby and told her to call in sick today," Diego agreed with him, separating a mound of mincemeat in a sizzling pan. "There's no _way _I'm letting that old bastard get his hands on _my_ girlfriend."

"Yeah, the girls have had enough, eh?" Mason called from over at the fry vats. "Hell, you should've seen Libby, earlier. Girl looked almost ready to clock him one!"

"Wait, _what_ happened to Libby?" I suddenly blurted out, my mind focusing in solely on that one name.

I think pretty much _everyone_ at Café Julio knew how I felt … used to feel … do feel? … towards Libby, so I was fairly grateful that none of the blokes made a comment about my sudden interest. I didn't even realise she was working today! It wasn't her usual shift anymore, so I had simply been resigned to the fact that I wouldn't get to see her this year when I turned a year older. Except, perhaps, for a small exchange at the end of my shift, if I felt so inclined to wait around for her to show up …

… no, I _so_ totally didn't do that every week.

Thankfully, Mason didn't spare me any details. He simply answered, "She came in to cover. _Said_ she could take it, but she's out front, clearly, and she came storming through for her break about half an hour ago. Said that Creepy Howard's getting to an all-time high and this time actually copped a feel of her arse!"

I admit, there was a bout of explosive swearing at that.

"–ing _bastard_!" I yelled. "Why the hell has no one strung up this dickhead by his balls for harassment yet?!"

"They can now, I'm sure!" Mason agreed, nodding. "There was always a fine line, wasn't there? Strict policies and all that shit, but this, this _touching_, he totally needs calling out on it. Guy's an effing perve."

"Today's a bank day," Butch put in. "Means the top café manager's coming in?"

"Someone needs to say something."

I agreed that someone did, and I swear, if it wasn't going to be Libby, it was going to be _me_. I stewed in ridiculous anger all the way until break, and I'm pretty sure that I contemplated _at least_ ten different ways of murdering the bastard. Unfortunately, since I didn't want to end up in Azkaban for the rest of my life, I forced myself to ignore my wand stuffed in my bag, along with avoiding the knives in the kitchen.

Naturally, instead of hiding with the girls in the break room, I went straight out front to lean against the counter next to the coffee machine.

"… James, I'm afraid that I won't be very tolerant of your comments today–" Libby began.

"No, no! You mistake me," I smiled at her, trying to go for casual as she continued to brew orders. "I am simply here to make sure that you are ok!"

"You're on a _break_, James! Go eat something, you'll pass out otherwise!"

"Is that concern for my well-being I detect?"

"Shut up," Libby told me, a hint of a smile on her face as she threw an empty to-go cup at me. "What d'you want?"

"I'm serious, some of the bloke's were talking about back and they said Creepy Howard did a number on you–"

"Oh, that?" Libby _spoke_ in a nonchalant voice … but she slammed the group head of the coffee machine _extremely_ hard into the rubbish bin; I had to brush away several excess coffee grinds as they scattered over my shirt. "I'm _fine_, James, I can take care of myself."

"Oh, trust me, I know," I said at once. But then, I was sure to make my voice sound as serious as possible as I added, "But Lib … it's sexual harassment. You don't need to suffer through it."

"And how is what _you _do different to Creepy Howard?" Libby said, raising an eyebrow.

"Aw, c'mon, you have to admit that there was a point in time when you liked my advances!" I teased.

"I thought we agreed not to go there?" Libby snorted.

Ok. So perhaps some topics were still a little touchy between us. We still hadn't quite grasped how to speak without flirting _or_ snapping at each other, yet. Thankfully, we were working on it. I kept reminding myself that my days of wallowing in my underwear were over, and we both tried to keep the flirting to a minimum.

… ok, so most days we failed miserably. We were nothing, if not persistent in trying!

"You're right, let's not," I said. However, I was then quick to add, "But come on, you can't _seriously_ suggest that what I do is in the same league as Creepy Howard! If you don't like it, I stop immediately! Hell, I've _never_ felt you up against your will, as appealing as the idea might sound. I'm not _creepy_."

"If a bit inappropriate," Libby added.

I gave her a grin as I said, "I'll give you that," but it faded quickly. "Look, Libby, I'm just trying to say that you don't have to stick this out. You're strong, but this isn't right, and you shouldn't have to live with it. Nancy's coming in soon, the café manager? You _need_ to tell her!"

"James, you need proof for that sort of thing," Libby told me. "It's not that simple anymore … _look_," she added, since it was clear she could see the unhappy expression on my face. "if it'll get you off my back, then fine, I'll report him to Nancy. But there's no guarantee it'll stop him."

"I don't care," I said at once. "All the other girls will back you up, I know they will! And I will too, you have to know that."

For a moment, Libby just mulled that statement over, steaming milk for her next order. Then, she glanced at me with a clearly failed supressed smile as she said, "You need to stop being sweet, James."

"Sweet? What is this 'sweet' you speak of?" I answered. "I'm nothing, if not crude and disgusting!"

But she still muttered, barely audible over the bangs and hisses of steam from the coffee machine, "Thanks."

* * *

Libby went to speak to Nancy at the end of our shift, around five. Naturally, I waited for her, collapsing into one of the stuffy armchairs that sat around coffee tables in the lobby. Thanks to it still being winter, the sky was rapidly darkening, but inside Café Julio, the lights were on and customers were still pouring in for the evening rush. Every time I caught a glance of Creepy Howard working the end of shift out front, I felt a sudden flash of anger and the urge to snap something.

I think it's safe to say I've never hated anyone more than I hate Creepy Howard.

"… James?" Libby's voice suddenly said.

I glanced up to see her standing in front of me, bag over her shoulder and looking confused. "What're you doing here?" she asked.

"Waiting to see what happened!" I said, leaping up at once. "What'd Nancy say?"

Libby didn't answer at first; she simply headed for the front doors. But when it became clear that I wasn't going to let her leave without saying _something_, she rolled her eyes and gestured for me to follow her, apparently accepting that I wasn't going away any time soon.

"She said that she'd look into it," Libby told me. I held the door open for her, and she gave me an amused look at the action.

"And …?" I prompted as we headed out into the street.

"_And_, I doubt she took me too seriously," Libby shrugged. "She said that I'd need proof to make a solid case."

"_What_?" I said, indignantly. "This is a _café_, not the bloody Auror Office!"

"I know. But, James, there's no point getting worked up over it," Libby tried to reason. "It's fine, it doesn't matter–"

"The HELL it doesn't!" I cried. Outside on the street, I grabbed her arm, forcing her to stop and turn back to face me. "Libby, you _matter_, those other girls, they matter as well!"

"I _know_," she said again, quietly. "and you're right, we'll get the bastard … just some other time, ok?"

I wasn't happy. In fact, I was far from happy! But, it was at that moment when Libby suddenly punched my shoulder and told me, "Come on, James! We need something to brighten this day up. Ooh, I know!" She gave me her sparkling grin. "I think it's time I buy you a drink."

"Come again?" I said, rather dumbly.

"Oh, come on," Libby snorted. "You didn't think I'd forget your birthday, did you?"

I'm pretty sure my mouth was left gaping open as Libby laughed, tugging on my wrist to drag me to the pub across the road.

* * *

"I seriously didn't think you'd remember," I pointed out once we'd found a small table inside the pub. Seeing as it was like, five thirty in the evening, you'd think the entire place would be dead; however, the freezing winds that had picked up outside had driven several people into the warmth of the bar, giving the pub a warm feeling and a buzz of conversation.

Libby set the two beers down onto the table before sitting down herself. "What, with the way you go on and on every year?" she said. "How _could_ I forget?"

"But last year, you didn't say anything!"

"Yes, well," Libby stayed looking at the wooden table top as I joined her. "We both know that last year wasn't the best."

Goddamn it, James. You _really_ don't know how to avoid an awkward topic, do you? My chest was beating in overdrive as it was, seeing as this was probably the first time Libby and I had hung out alone together since … god, I couldn't even remember! I _did_ have vivid memories of Libby thanks to this pub, however. It was the same one I had taken her to almost four years ago, when we were waiting for Nathan the Cheater to finish his shift before stalking him. That night, I had used every power I had to try and make her laugh.

Now, it seemed that she was trying to do the same for me.

"Sorry," I muttered.

"It's fine," Libby said, quickly. Then, with her smile, she asked, "So! How old are you now?"

"You remember my birthday, but you _don't_ remember how old I'm turning?"

"Hey," Libby pointed at me with her beer. "Don't _you_ forget who bought you your drink."

"I'm twenty four!" I said, brightly. "That's right, nearly a quarter of a way to a hundred! Oh, dear god …" I added at the thought. A quarter to a hundred! That's just scary on all levels.

"You old man," Libby smirked.

"Hey, you're not so young, yourself," I pointed out.

"_Please_," she snorted. "I'm not even twenty three, yet."

"Ah, you youngin's. So full of life."

"I'm surprised you're not picking out your wheelchair yet," Libby was trying and utterly failing to hide a grin behind her drink.

"Yeah, yeah, ok," I cut in, then. "Enough with the 'James is old' jokes! I'll get enough of that later!"

"Why later?"

"Oh, Fred's throwing me a party I think," I shrugged.

"You _think_?"

"Well, he asked what time I was getting off work and he seemed pretty insistent that I go round and visit Rosie before going home … plus, this morning I caught him trying to sneak thirty helium balloons into my flat."

"He's not exactly _subtle_, Fred Weasley, is he?"

"Last year, he actually said, 'Hey, you got plans tonight? We're having a party, only don't tell James!'."

Libby let out a snort of laughter at that, practically choking on her beer. I really didn't know what I did to deserve this, but please, give me the opportunity and I would do it all over again fifty more times! Even though we were both still in our work uniforms, her black hair was thrown up in a hasty ponytail, and a layer of coffee grinds covered her skin … she was still the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

"So _are_ you going to visit Rosie?" she asked once she'd finally gotten herself under control.

"Nah," I shook my head. "Who would I be to cut my birthday drink short? Besides, every time I see Rosie these days, she's in a state of perpetual 'all men are bastards'. Seriously, what the hell _happened_ between her and Scorpius?"

Libby rolled her eyes. "God, I have no idea!" she said. "He dumped her, she dumped him, they could have done it at the same bloody time, for all I know! The words coming out of her mouth were incoherent at best."

"It happened at a part or something, right? That's what Al mentioned," I said.

"Yeah, they've been at each other's throats for a few months now, but they just got into this huge row during the _Twelfth Night_ party. They were holed up in the bathroom, actually. Half the party needed to pee in the end …"

"But, just for the record, they're being stupid, right?" I asked.

"See, I would love to be optimistic here and say that they're both idiots who need to get over themselves …" Libby said then, frowning slightly. "And that's still definitely true. But don't get me wrong, I love them both to pieces, and I don't really know _that_ much … but it really hasn't seemed like it was working, recently."

"You're kidding!" I said. "But they're _Rosie and Scorpius_!"

"James, all they would do was _fight_."

"But that's all they do, anyway!"

"Yeah, maybe," Libby laughed. "but at least before, you knew that there was going to be hot make-up sex afterwards."

"GAH!" I cried, dropping my drink and clapping my hands over my ears instead. "Libby! Seriously didn't need to hear that!"

"And I _seriously_ wish half my mates weren't related, sometimes," Libby said, reaching across the table and tugging my hands away from my head.

"There's a fine line of what I can tolerate," I commented. "My little brother's wedding, for instance: I can handle that! _Anything_ that includes sex, make-up or otherwise, I'm afraid will result in some ear-ripping."

"You're as bad as Rosie," Libby just shook her head at me.

For a moment, we were silent as we drank together. I stared hard, admittedly trying _not_ to look like I was Creepy Howard's apprentice, as I mulled over something she had mentioned. She was looking behind me, through the windows of the pub and into the dark street, the light of the bar washing over her face. Eventually, I couldn't take it anymore and I asked,

"Hey, um … Libby, you mentioned before that you wished your mates weren't all related," I paused as she looked back at me in surprise. "Did you … I mean … uh, is that how you see me? As a mate?"

I couldn't read Libby's face. For a second, she looked rather tormented … but then, she simply gave a sigh. "I don't know, James," she said, honestly. "We agreed that the term 'friends' was too mainstream for us, right? But sometimes, I think we actually are … then, I remember everything that's happened, and the thought just gets too weird. _Then_ I wonder what the hell we _actually_ are … and I get confused."

"The smartest woman I know somehow still gets confused," I smirked.

"Shut it, James."

"No, I know," I admitted, talking to the table top. Anything but her face. "This is … _strange_. We haven't purposefully hung out like this since _at least_ before … well, you know," I trailed off, awkwardly.

"Yeah," Libby muttered. "Oh, god, I probably shouldn't have done this …"

"I _have_ been refraining myself from pointing out how hot you look," I commented.

"_James_," Libby whacked my arm, but then she reached up and rubbed her eyes, warily. "Shit, I'm sorry. Again."

"For what?"

"For screwing with your mind even more."

"Hey, I knew what you meant in taking me out, here," I shrugged. "It's my birthday! Special occasion and all that. This just means that no matter what, come August 8th, I get to take _you_ out!"

Libby looked up at me then, giving me an extremely strange look. When, eventually, she was starting to freak me out, I hesitantly asked, "Um … what?"

"You know when my birthday is?" she asked.

"Oh," I frowned. "Course I do! Last year, Jo made you wear that funny birthday hat all day, remember?"

"But you _remembered_ …" Libby's eyes looked extremely bright for a second. Then, she glanced back down at the table, and for a moment, we were both silent once more.

I'm not entirely sure what just happened. When I figure it out, I will have to get back to you.

"I promise I won't do this to you again," Libby said then, recovering (though from what, I had no idea).

"Ah, I'm over it anyway," I waved a hand, dismissively. "Send me all the mixed messages you like. I'm twenty four now, I'm sure I can handle it."

"Now that you're practically a senior citizen," Libby said, giving me a small smile.

"I don't quite need the walking stick just yet," I pointed out. "Though I _am_ perhaps at the mid-life crisis stage."

"All you need to do, then, is buy a new broomstick that you don't need, and sleep with some hot woman who's much younger than you!"

"You offering?"

"Well, considering my only other contender _is_ Creepy Howard …" Libby began, sarcastically.

While I laughed, the comment sent the pervert screaming back into my head, which quite honestly, was an image that I did _not_ want. Who the hell _was_ that bloke to screw up my so far brilliant birthday? Libby didn't deserve it. Taylor, Anna, Abby, _none_ of the other girls at Café Julio deserved it! Stupid harassment policies and _proof_ …

"That bloke _needs _to understand that he can't get away with this," I pointed out.

Libby sighed. "James, I thought I'd managed to make you forget about it," she said.

"You're not going to make me forget! Don't get me wrong, I've loved coming out with you; this has probably been the best birthday I've ever had! But I _hate_ thinking about what that arsehole did to you! Seriously, if I could get away with it, I'd wrench his guts out."

"You'd have to get in line," Libby's mouth twitched, but then she looked grave once more. "James, before you do something stupid, you really need to drop it–"

"No!" I'd suddenly made up my mind. Lifting my drink, I drained the last of my beer before slamming the bottle back down onto the table. "I can't just sit by and do _nothing_. I don't care what Nancy says, I swear, I'm going to teach that guy not to mess with you!"

"Oh, lord," Libby said at once. "Remember what I said about being _stupid_? I mean, _Sir James_ to the rescue? We really are going to spend the rest of our days being sexually harassed!"

"Normally I adore your sense of humour," I pointed out. "But tonight, not so much. Libby, this is serious."

"I'm being serious, too!" Libby insisted. "C'mon, James, what can you do, _really_? What," she added with a snort of laughter and a mocking voice. "are you going to ambush him down a dark alley?"

It was right at that moment that the doors to the pub were pushed open. Libby and I both turned at the noise and the rush of cold air; however, my mind wasn't on the group of blokes who'd just arrived. I saw straight past them, across the street, to where the Pervert of the Year was suddenly ambling out of the café, sweeping a hand through his greasy hair. He scratched himself absently, before throwing his coat over his shoulders. He glanced back behind him, through the windows of the café. Just before the door to the pub slammed closed, I saw him quite clearly lick his lips.

He really was a disgusting pig.

I glanced back at Libby with a _well? _expression.

"… oh, no!" she said at once. "You _can't_–"

"Oh, I can!"

"You'll be _arrested_!"

"Only if he reports it," I pointed out.

"What makes you think he wouldn't?"

I shot her a smirk. "C'mon, Lib. Use your imagination."

Libby shook her head, exasperatedly. "I am, and I'm not liking where it's heading!"

"But …?"

Libby glared at me for several moments. Then, she said, "_But_ … is it horrible of me to say that I _might_ be considering letting you?"

"Libby, I wouldn't _dare_ judge you!" I said. I stood from my chair, offering her my hand across the table. "But I could use a partner, though. What d'you say, Auror Fletcher? Fancy hunting down a dark wizard?"

Libby hesitated, apparently still weighing up the options of an Azkaban sentence, as opposed to threatening Creepy Howard.

… then, she downed the last of her beer, before reaching up and taking my hand.

"I say that I'm going to enjoy this _way_ too much than I'm supposed to," she answered.

"Someone's got to sign your arrest warrant, don't they?" I grinned.

* * *

There was a short alleyway just a little bit down from the café; several of our colleagues used it as a shortcut to reach the train station. Sure enough, as Libby and I silently followed our prey down the street, we inwardly cheered when Creepy Howard turned down it.

Well, _I_ cheered. Libby looked like she had half a mind to drag me out of there, but I would have liked to have seen her try!

It was rather unfortunate that we couldn't simply whip out our wands and threaten the bloke with an elephant trunk or skin inside out, but there were a lot of other ways to make a man cower. In fact, just before we made our move, Libby stopped me to make sure our jackets covered our uniform and, to really top it all off, she conjured two black beanies that could be pulled over our eyes.

"… you're _not_ serious, right?" I had whispered.

"Might as well make an impression," she had grinned back. "Why not do this as a cliché as humanely possible?"

As it turns out, Libby Fletcher is a hellcat!

"Oh, look who it is," she taunted, cutting off Creepy Howard's path, about halfway down the alley. The path was empty except for a few dustbins at the back entrances to the restaurants that adorned this side of town and the large rubbish skip at the end, near the street. "You work at Café Julio, right? One of the managers?"

"If you ask me, he's just a dickhead," I agreed, blocking off his escape from behind.

Creepy Howard's eyes darted between the two of us, taking in the beanies and the hostile postures. He was clearly trying to keep up a sense of bravado, but the bloke was balding and in his fifties; he had to know that we could take him.

"I – I – I don't know what you're talking about," he stammered.

"Oh, I think you do," Libby continued, looking menacing with her dark hair hidden under the beanie. God, she was so hot. "We've seen you working at that café …"

"… only it's not the coffee you're interested in drinking, is it?" I finished, the two of us both taking a step closer. Creepy Howard stumbled away hastily until his back slammed into the brick wall of the alley. There was a hint of panic on his face, now.

"Whoever you are, if you hurt me in any way, I swear I'll report you–"

"But we're not here to hurt you, are we?" I asked, exchanging a gleeful look with Libby behind the material of the beanie.

"Why, of course not," she answered with a grin. "We just want to–" She slammed the wall next to Creepy Howard's head with her fist, causing the man to jump. "–_talk_."

"I – I – I have n-nothing to s-say to you!" he insisted.

"Yeah, well, we do," I practically growled, leaning against the wall on his other side, effectively cutting off all avenues of escape; Libby's arm brushed against mine as we stood side by side in front of him and I felt a thrill from the adventure of threatening a bloke in a dark alley alongside my partner in crime. "The harassment stops here, _Howie_."

"How – how do you know my name?"

"Oh, we know everything, Howie," Libby continued, her voice light and dangerous. "How you flirt with those girls at the café, purposefully make sure they're around you. You probably think it's funny, what's the harm? All girls love a bit of attention, right?"

"_Wrong_," I growled. "It's not funny, it's just _disgusting_. And you're a sick bastard if you can't see it."

"So we're … opening your eyes, if you will," Libby leaned even closer, her body only inches away from Creepy Howard's. How she could stand it, I didn't know, but I didn't yank her back as much as I wanted to, since it had the effect she was going for: Creepy Howard staring at her, wide-eyed, like she was going to rip his throat out. "Consider it a warning. If you _ever_ touch one of those girls again–"

"Or say something they don't like," I added.

"Or make them feel uncomfortable."

"Or, hell, even bloody scared …"

"We'll find you," Libby smirked at Creepy Howard's obvious discomfort; he was standing flat up against the wall, almost not breathing in his attempt to pull back from her. "and _then_, you may find that we won't be as inclined to keep our hands to ourselves. Right?"

"Right," I agreed. "And trust me, we'll _know_ if you do go back to your old ways. We'll come by every day."

"Maybe order a mocha?" Libby mused.

"Ooh, some nachos."

"With the salsa–"

"I'm not _afraid_ of you!" Creepy Howard then burst out, seemingly in a burst of courage. Libby and I just exchanged looks before laughing.

"Oh, mate," I chortled, as Libby pretended to wipe her eyes in mirth. "I don't care if you're not scared of me. But _her_ … you should be bloody terrified to go to sleep every night," I grinned at the slight look of surprise on Libby's face, but she didn't let it show through the beanie. "'cause she _will_ violently castrate you with her bare hands and shove your balls up your arse so far, you'll be able to feel them in your throat."

We let that sink in for a moment, in which Creepy Howard gulped and eyed Libby out of the corner of his eye. "So," I concluded. "Do you understand us?"

He nodded.

"I'm sorry, we didn't hear you–" Libby said, roughly.

"Yes! Yes, I'm sorry, I understand, ok?" Creepy Howard cried and I smirked. Our work here was done.

Well, almost.

As Libby gave a satisfied grin and backed off, darting back into the shadows of the alley, I turned back to Creepy Howard one last time. I noticed Libby turn in confusion as I threw myself back into Creepy Howard's face and the slow progress he'd made from the wall relapsed as he flung himself back into it in terror. Leaning in close, I snarled at him,

"By the way … you go after my girl again, and I will personally make sure you end up dog food in the gutter. Understand?"

He nodded hastily, then gulped as he tentatively asked, "Which … which one is your girl?"

I smirked. "Figure it out."

And Libby and I disappeared into the shadows.

* * *

"Oh, my _god_!" Libby burst out once we were several streets away and Creepy Howard had run off far in the opposite direction. She had pulled her beanie off and her hair was now almost standing on end from the static, but it didn't matter. The spark in her eyes made her pretty much irresistible. "That was so COOL!"

"We're going to hell, but who cares!" I cried in agreement.

"Shit, thank you, James!" Libby yelled.

In a burst of excitement, she leapt forward and threw her arms around my neck. Naturally, for half a second, my arms simply flailed; she was _hugging_ me, Libby Fletcher had her arms around me! But thankfully, I got my freak-out under control and found the sense to hug her back before she could realise what she was actually doing. I held her waist as tightly as I could, picking her up off the ground and swinging her around. I wanted to take a moment to breathe her in. I wanted to smooth a hand up her back, perhaps pulling her hair out of her ponytail and running my fingers through her dark waves. I wanted …

… a _lot_ of things that I didn't realise I still wanted.

Unfortunately (or thankfully?) once Libby's feet were back on the ground, she pulled away hastily. She ran a hand through her hair instead, flattening the static of the strands and looking awkward.

"Er," she muttered, glancing up. "Sorry. I mean, thanks. For what you said back there. I know you were talking about me."

"You know you'll always be my number one girl," I grinned, weakly. "So … I guess I'll see you around."

"Yeah … I guess," Libby nodded.

"Unless … I mean, there'll probably be tonnes of people I don't even know at my birthday party," I said about as calmly as I could manage. "You could come … um, if you wanted."

"That would be … cool," Libby looked faintly shocked, but not altogether like the idea was a horrible one.

"It's at my place … um, I'll write it down," I muttered. Would you look at that, I was learning! I'd just been about to ask if she remembered where it was from last time she was there, but hey, as we all know, she had been quite spectacularly drunk at the time … and far too preoccupied to take much notice of what street she was on.

When I found a stray marker pen in my bag to write on the back of her hand and had written down my address, she stepped back with a slight smile.

"Thank you, James," she said once again.

"No problem," I replied.

Then, I forced myself to drag my feet around and start walking back in the direction of my flat, because I figured if I didn't do it now, I _never_ would. What the _hell_ had I been thinking, inviting her to my birthday? Absolutely idiotic! I've probably gone and screwed up whatever small progress we'd managed to make! Of course, several shops away, I couldn't help myself in turning back, just for a moment. I only hoped to catch a glance of the back of her head, but I happened to catch Libby's eye as, apparently, she did the same.

It was kind of hard to miss the sparkling grin on her face.

Best. Birthday. _Ever_.

* * *

(_2030_)

"She actually _didn't_ come to my birthday party in the end, by the way," I pointed out.

"_What_?" Rose looked appalled. "Why not?"

"Hey, you've got to remember – that was the first time we'd really connected in years!" I said. "At the time, she made up some obviously fake excuse when I saw her at work next, which she pretended was convincing and I pretended to believe. But she's since told me that she had wrestled with the idea of going that entire night. Apparently, by the time she'd made up her mind to go, it was past midnight, and she ended up eating ice cream with Jo instead."

Rose just rolled her eyes. "You two really do know how to botch something up, don't you?"

"Almost as much as you and Scorpius can, I think!"

"Oh, please," Rose said. "Our problems were nothing compared to yours!"

I sniggered at that. "Just trust me," I said. "Things didn't get _really_ botched up until just under a month later. I mean, nearly killing someone can put a damper on any relationship!"

For such a sombre topic, Rose's eyes really did light up!

"You don't mean–?"

"Oh, yes!" I said. "The next thing that happened was the day I blew up Uncle George's shop."

* * *

A/N: So after a lot of googling about England's verbal harassment laws, I figured out that James and Libby could quite easily get thrown in jail, or at least fined, for what they did to Creepy Howard if he reported them. However, after struggling with what to do for ages, I realised that this really wasn't going to go down any other way. So let's just all believe that Creepy Howard is too scared to do such a thing because our dear Jabby are a force to be reckoned with. :)

I hope you all enjoyed this! This story has seriously been so awesome to write! And up next … well. You know. :)

Thank you to all those who have taken the time to tell me what you think. Please, keep your thoughts coming, I love to hear them!

Until next time (which may or may not be in a week, since I have exams, such fun!) -

- Moon. :D


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